The Macabre Dance
by DreamMerchant87
Summary: When a spate of strange murders give the Deputy Director of the FBI a bad feeling, Santana Lopez, head of the Paranatural Criminal Investigation Unit and Necromancer is sent to Lima, Ohio to investigate. Upon arrival she is confronted with a web of horror and a frustrating whimsically vexatious blonde. AU: Rated M for Language, violence and death. Supernatural/Crime/Romance.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **** Hey guys, so I know I'm probably digging myself a gigantic hole for doing this but I couldn't get this idea out of my head and it's just writing itself at the moment so I thought I'd post it and see how you all will take it.**

**I haven't given up on The End Of A Dynasty. I am in the process of writing the next chapter. **

**I hope you all enjoy this. It's different to my other story. I'm going to post the Prologue and the the first chapter at the same time. The Prologue isn't as interesting as the first chapter it's just setting up Santana. This will be from Santana's point of view, I find Brittany difficult to write. **

**If you have any questions, hit me up on tumblr Reverenceforfallentrees.**

**Please review :)**

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**Prologue**

"I don't wanna play this anymore." I grumble as I place my tea cup down. Tea parties are so boring. Sometimes I hate playing with Quinn.

Mami says I shouldn't say hate. But I say it a lot, to myself.

"Well, do you wanna play with my Barbie's?" Quinn asks putting her tea cup neatly on the saucer and wiping her mouth with her napkin. I don't wanna play with Barbie's, Barbie's are boring. Plus Quinn only has yellow haired Barbie's and Mami doesn't like me bringing my Barbie's outside of the house.

"Santana, can you please come downstairs? Your mom is here sweetie!" Mrs Fabray's voice yells from downstairs. I frown. Mami said she wasn't going to pick me up until tomorrow after lunchtime. Quinnie and I are having a sleepover.

"Why is your mommy here? We didn't have our sleepover yet!" Quinn whines. I just shrug and get up, leaving Quinn behind as I leave her room and make my way along the hallway, bouncing down the stairs. I see Mami at the front door. Mrs Fabray has her hand on Mami's arm and is rubbing it. I pull a face. Mami looks up at me and she looks sad.

"Mami are you sad?" I ask quietly

"Santanita, we need to go. Go get your things sweetie." Her voice is shaky and I don't understand what's happening.

"But I'm supposed to stay with Quinnie tonight?" I ask confused

"Not anymore Santana, please go get your things. We need to go, Papi is waiting for us." She pleads. I stand staring at her confused still.

"Maribel, don't worry, I'll go and get Santana's things." Mrs Fabray smiles at Mami softly.

"Thank you Judy." Mami replies as Mrs Fabray walks up the stairs.

"What's happening Mami?" I ask

"I will tell you soon Santana. How about you go out and wait for me in the car with Papi."

"But…"

"Santana out into the car now." Mami all but yells at me. I don't like it when she yells, I bite my lip to stop myself from crying and quickly leave the Fabray's house out to my Papi's Audi. I climb in the back and Papi smiles at me.

"Hola Santanita. ¿Te divertiste con Quinn?" he asks and I just shrug.

"What's happening Papi?"

"We are going home!" He says over enthusiastically. I look at him confused.

"Why?"

"We will tell you when we get there." He smiles reassuringly at me. I can't help but feel like his smile is fake. I look out the window and see Mami coming she looks really sad. She climbs in the car and Papi reaches over and holds her hand. I think I hear her stifle a cry.

Papi drives us home. It's quiet in the car and I don't think it's okay if I talk. I am unsure what is happening right now.

"Santana, we need to talk to you. Come sit down with us honey." Papi says as Mami sniffs. I move from the door way and sit on the sofa. Wriggling my butt right back so my feet barely dangle over the edge. Papi sits on the coffee table in front of me as Mami takes a seat next to me. She takes a deep breath and shakes.

"What's going on?" I ask timidly.

"Well..." Papi starts and then looks at Mami, she nods to him and he takes another breath

"Santana, this morning, Abuela Dominguez died."

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**Four Days Later**

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_Dios te salve, Maria.  
Llena eres de gracia:  
El Señor es contigo.  
Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres.  
Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre:  
Jesús.  
Santa María, Madre de Dios,  
ruega por nosotros pecadores,  
ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte.  
Amén._

Tears are a constant stream down my face as Abuelas funeral comes to an end. Everybody has begun to leave and I sit still staring at her casket, the lid which is left wide open. People come around us and start talking to my parents; I jump up off the pew and wipe my eyes.

"Don't stray too far Santanita." Papi says before someone else begins talking to him. I slowly make my way up to the front of the church, they asked me before if I wanted to see Abuela, but I couldn't bring myself to. I don't want her to be gone. My Abuela was everything to me. Everything. Slowly I approach her. The coffin is dark and shiny. I run my hand along the side of it as I peer in, tears start falling. She looks asleep. I touch her face as tears fall harder, like a waterfall down my face. I trace the wrinkles on her face with my finger then pull it back.

"Abuela please don't go. Please. Please wake up." I say quietly under my breathe. I reach for her hand and hold it tight. It's so cold in my hand. I give it a squeeze as I repeat the same phrase over and over again.

"Please wake up Abuela please. I love you, please wake up. Please don't leave me. Please don't go. I love you. "

I hold her hand tighter and say it louder this time

"Please wake up Abuela please. I love you, please wake up. Please don't leave me. Please don't go. I love you. "

For some reason I feel a warmth inside of me. I am unsure what it is but I shake it off. I squeeze her hand tighter

"Te quiero Abuela. Please wake up." I say louder and more forcefully. Wiping the tears from my face with my other hand. I go to remove my hand from holding hers when I realise she is holding onto it. I look up and see her eyes are open.

"Hola Santanita" her voice croaks. I jump back and scream a piercing scream. I jump back in panic screaming still. I fall backwards landing on my butt as my parents come to my side and look up at the casket where Abuela is now sitting up. Papi looks at me eyes wide open in shock.

"Santana, what have you done?"


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: Chapter one, I hope you all enjoy this.**

**Hit me up on tumblr: Reverenceforfallentrees**

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**Please review.**

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**20 Years Later**

I walk into the room and the seven new FBI recruits that have been 'specifically' selected for training in paranatural crime investigation sit talking between themselves, completely ignoring my presence. I clear my throat and they still ignore me. Here I was thinking I had an aura in which commanded attention, but these little newbies completely are disregarding my presence. Fuckers. I smirk and stand at the front of the class and yell

"I can raise and control the dead."

At this they all turn to look at me completely shocked but with looks of interest on their faces. Death is always fascinating; it always gets people's immediate attention. I chuckle internally to myself. Humans are so predictable.

"Necromancy isn't something you can learn. It is not a science. Nor is it something you just randomly pick up. I am not here to teach you about the technical aspects or how to become a necromancer. You will learn about necromancy, but from an observation point, so that you are able to understand the process and what may happen whilst working with a necromancer. Or if you are ever unfortunate to be on the receiving end of a particularly volatile one."

I look around the room and analyse this year's class. The FBIs feeble attempt to form a paranatural department has yet to be successful. To garner the respect and reputation from the paranatural community the government agencies need to respect that they need to perhaps target and employ paranatural beings. Thus far, I am the only person who has any semblance of understanding or sympathy towards the creatures that exist among us.

The only reason I am here is because my ability, fortunately, has granted me the ability to exist in the world as a human. Magic is far different and easier to understand than someone who can live for eternity or morph into another creature or animal.

Even if that magic ability revolves around the ability to bring the dead back to life for short periods and manipulate them into doing whatever I please.

Really, the FBI should be concerned about me. I could, if I please, have myself an army of reanimated Zombies doing my bidding. Luckily, I am not that way inclined.

"Necromancy involves a magic that very few possess. Since its inception the paranatural registry only has 3 registered in the northern hemisphere and 7 in the southern. Those nations with shamanistic appreciation tend to hold a higher number. Not all Necromancers are registered, for those areas in which shaman and witch doctors practice are generally remote and do not want to have anything to do with the western world. It's estimated that around 30-50 necromancers exist within the world, though these numbers could be higher owing to remote villages and tribes within Africa, Central and South America as well as the Eurasian area. Traditionally Pacific Island nations; Hawaii, Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, Vanuatu and the likes all possess at least one Necromancer, who is generally highly regarded for their ability to communicate with the recently departed. To provide protection upon the family or the village."

All 7 people in this class look as if I'm boring them to death. Luckily if that was to happen I could bring them back and make them suffer longer.

"This class will educate you on the various different creatures that exist in the world that you necessarily won't have any idea about. Since the paranatural world has decided to show itself you must learn about all the creatures, how they exist in the world, how to understand them, communicate with them and most importantly, respect them. I am one hundred percent certain you all would have had dealings with a paranatural being of some kind and not been aware of it, thus, you will first and foremost learn how to identify a paranatural being."

The class looks mildly interested. I'm going to have to talk to Shelby Corcoran, there is no way I can teach people who are only mildly interested in the paranatural. This area is specific and needs attentive people, all the time. You can't be nonchalant about the paranatural. It annoys me that at this moment only Dartmouth has paranatural studies as an area to specialize in. It's frustrating that people don't take these creatures and people with extraordinary powers seriously. It's something that needs to be taught. People need to know what they may be confronted with.

Paranatural doesn't just apply to Vampire's or Werewolves.

"Firstly, we are going to learn about the various kinds of paranatural beings. We are going to start with the ones that you are most likely to encounter. Humanoids. Humanoids are split into four different categories. You have the Elvish, which are notorious for higher intelligence, magic, notorious trickery and warped senses of humour. The Elvish category covers creatures that aren't necessarily elves, but hold Elvish qualities as well as their distinctive own. Confusing, yes, but once you learn the others you will learn that the beings that fall into these categories are similar but different."

I pick up the whiteboard marker and write in bold letters **ELVISH**. I turn back to the class then look at them. One guy with slicked back hair looks interested in what I've just said. Perhaps this class isn't so bad after all. I clear my throat and continue

"Next you have the Part Human sector, which is pretty self-explanatory; the creatures that fall into this category consist of Humans that have animal qualities to them as well." Turning back to the whiteboard I write in bold **PART HUMAN. **Turning back to the class, I see one of the guys in the group with his hand up. I know his type and I know what is coming because of the aforementioned. This guy has douchey jock idiot written all over his face. I sigh knowing what the question is going to be. I nod to him and brace myself for this idiots attempt at being witty.

"Part Human? Does that mean their human parent fucked an animal? They are so ugly they can't get any human so has fun fucking farm animals?" he snickers. I roll my eyes. And smile sweetly at him as I approach his desk.

"Racism on any level will not be tolerated in this class. GET OUT NOW." The guy looks at me and scoffs as he picks up his shit, muttering 'Bitch' as I leave.

I turn to the remaining six people and address them seriously.

"If you are not going to take this class seriously or are just going to sit here and ridicule other beings you can get out of my class. If you don't want to be here. To learn these things, I suggest you leave my classroom right now. I am here to educate you and assemble a sector within this bureau that can deal with the criminal activities of paranatural beings. To teach you to be tolerant and understanding and also exceptional detectives. If you are not built for this leave my classroom right now. I do not have the patience to put up with your narrow minded shit."

The other six look at me shocked. Finally, I have all of their full attention. Seeing as nobody else leaves I smile at them, then continue with my lesson

"Next up is the Monstrous Humanoids. Which, is exactly as it sounds, humans who have monster like tendencies. Monstrous also includes those beings that have passed on. Ghosts, ghouls and poltergeists. As well as beings who show a lower level of intelligence and a streak of evil within them. Generally are overly oafish or incredibly cunning. They tend to still hide within the shadows. The likelihood is that you will not encounter one of these. Though, it's important to be aware and educated on them."

I turn to the whiteboard and then write in bold **MONSTROUS HUMANOIDS.**

"Finally, we have the most unpredictable of the humanoid subcategories. The Shape shifters. Unlike what you have probably been informed, werewolves are not the only beings that can shape shift. Shape shifters and lycanthropes come in many different sizes and species. It's important to know that upon the full moon that you are not only to be wary of wolves. Shape shifters are able to shift at any time, Lycanthropes can also change at any moment, but they spend the full moon as their animal and that is when they are most animalistic and infectious."

I turn back to the whiteboard and write in bold **SHAPE SHIFTERS**. I turn back to the class and see that one of them has their hand raised. I nod at him and he smiles.

"I was just wondering where a Necromancer would fit within the humanoid categories? Are you defined as plainly human or are you Elvish?" he asks genuinely interested. I take stock of him as he continues to smile at me. His slicked back hair and his 50's preppy style is nauseating to look at. But he seems harmless and honestly has been the only one to pay any attention. I take a deep breath and sense something from him. Part of the magic within me provides the ability to feel when a paranatural being is near me. I can't quite figure out what though.

"Necromancers fit into two different categories and it depends on who you ask. You are right on the Elvish account. Magic fits into that category, whether it is a witch or a necromancer. Some people also label Necromancers as Monstrous Humanoids because of what their special ability entails. Dealing with the dead, specifically zombies gives them a monstrous connotation."

He nods at me and beings writing down what I hope are notes. I hear the door to the room open and I glance up at who just walked in. I sigh and nod, indicating I saw them, then turn back the class.

"I have to end the class early today. It seems Agent Corcoran wants to talk with me. If you have any more questions save them for next class. Please make yourselves familiar with the different species that exist within the Elvish category of Humanoids. For now, I shall bid you adieu."

With that dismissal the class shuffles as they put their stuff away and exit the room, the slicked back haired guy approaches me though. I eye him warily. The closer he approaches, the more my skin begins to prickle. I frown. And he smiles at me

"Agent Lopez, I'm Blaine Anderson. I just wanna say thank you for today, I've learnt so much already. I hope to learn more from you over time and would love to be considered for the PCIU" he smiles again and I eye him suspiciously.

"Sure. I'm glad you learned something." I reply. I still am unsure as to what this is that Brian or Braden or whatever his name is, is sending out, but I will figure it out eventually. I see movement from the corner of my eye and hear Shelby clear her throat.

"Anderson, I need to talk to Agent Lopez alone and in private. I'm sure whatever it is that you wish to discuss can be done next class."

"Uh, yeah sure." He says and turns and leaves.

"Classy dismissal" I say as I turn back to the white board and grab the eraser, wiping what I had written previously off the board.

"I'm sorry Miss, 'I'll bid you adieu' we can't all be as classy as you." Shelby replies and I chuckle.

"To what do I owe the pleasure Shelby? I am sure you didn't come here to discuss the intricacies of formal dismissals. You only come to me when you want something. So what is it that you wish to ask of me?"

"I am concerned." She states simply

"That's unfortunate, if you would like my help though you need to be more specific."

"I received some information from a small town in Ohio, Lima I believe it's called."

"What sort of information?"

"The Lima Police department have reported 5 animal attacks within the last month. They believe they have a rogue bear or something. I on the other hand am convinced it is something else."

"What does the evidence point to?"

"An undefined animal."

"What do you believe?"

"A Werebear."

"You jump to Werebear because of undefined animal or does the evidence legitimately point to a Werebear?"

"I don't know Santana. I just know that something isn't sitting right with me about this case. I want you to go over the files. See what you can figure out. This is your area."

"Stray animals aren't my area Shelby."

"Just have a look Lopez."

I groan, knowing that nothing I can say will sway her to leave me alone.

"Fine I'll look. But if this turns out to be a rogue animal, I'm going to be pissed Shelby. I need to use my talents for other things. I can't just be investigating things normal agents do."

She smiles at me then turns to leave the room.

"Any feelings towards your students yet and whether any of them could make the PCIU?"

"Anderson. The others aren't worth my time. There's something about Anderson though."

Shelby smiles and nods.

"I'm glad you found someone. Goodnight Santana."

"Whatever. Goodnight Shelby." I reply as she leaves the room. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. Tonight is going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: The reception towards this has been amazing. I'm always amazed when I get reviews and follows and favourites. Thank you again to everyone who commented, followed and favourited. It makes me want to write more. **

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)**

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**Please review**

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I look up from my desk and see one of Shelby's many assistants approach me, laden with hard copies of the files I was just about to look at on the computer. I frown at her as she stands in front of me; I am unaware as to how she can see over the humongous stack of files she is holding.

"Agent Lopez, Agent Corcoran wishes you to review these files as well." The assistants voice squeaks, I nod and take the first file from her arms and quickly flick through, and I frown.

"Why am I looking at cases from Missouri? I am only meant to be glancing at the Lima, Ohio cases. And I repeat glancing; I am not wasting effort on one of Shelby's feelings. She isn't a fucking Mystic." I growl and the assistant looks at me, a flash of fright crosses her face.

"I don't know Agent Lopez, I'm just the messenger." She places the folders on my desk in a neat stack and I scowl at her.

"Tell Shelby to come and see me immediately. I refuse to play these games with her." I snap and the assistant retreats terrified at my tone. I sigh and collapse back down into my chair and swivel it around staring at the huge pile on my desk. I take my glasses off and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration, replacing my glasses I turn back to my computer and begin to look over the Ohio cases. Shelby will just have to deal with the fact that I am not looking at her other shit tonight.

I enter my identification number and my password and wait as the computer loads into the record system. As it takes forever to load, I contemplate where I'm going to start. Obviously with the first case but should I read the reports first or should I look at the photos? Reports give somebody else's account, and can place ideas in your head before you even have a moment to take a look for yourself at the crime. Looking at the photos first could taint your opinions of the report because your automatic gut reaction is to believe it is this way or that way and once your mind is made up as to how something has happened, it's difficult to take into account anybody else's opinion on the matter.

Once the computer finally loads I enter OHLPD5231526, the number of the first case and wait as it brings up all the relevant information. Strangely for a death that has been recorded as an animal attack, the report is huge. I sigh loudly in frustration that my long night is now going to be even longer. I opt to look at the photos first. Clicking on the first image, I notice what appeared to have been a white male, early twenties maybe? Jagged furrows ran down the left side of his face. It looks as if a claw had gauged the eye, spilling blood and thick globs of eyeball down his cheek. His lower jaw appeared to be crushed, as if something had squeezed it until the bone fragmented. It made the face look grotesque, unidentifiable, only half there. It must have hurt like fuck, but I don't think it's what killed him.

As I move onto the next photo I see what must have killed him. His throat had been torn out; the flesh was just gone. Through the gaping hole where his throat had once been, I could see the white bone of his spine.

I swallow sharply frowning. Instead of reading the report and looking at the rest of the photos of this case, I decide to load the rest of the photos from the other cases and look.

It's enough to give anybody nightmares.

Each victim was a man, about the same age from what I could tell. All had their faces crushed and throats ripped out in the same manner. I go back to the first cases photos and look at the following photos, the next were of the abdomen, and most of the internal organs were gone. There was literally nothing to see. The flesh and organs were gone.

The edges of the wound were jagged. No knife had done this. Or if it had, it was like no blade I'd ever seen. The medical examiner's report would tell for sure. A rib had been broken. It pointed upward like a lonely picket. I zoomed in on the bone. It was chipped, but not because of claws, or hands. I would have bet a week's pay that I was looking at teeth marks.

It was the same for every victim.

I go back to the throat photographs and examine the throat wounds closer; there were teeth marks at each side of the throat wound, not claws. I frown. It certainly wasn't human teeth. This ruled out zombie or vampire.

The claw marks on the face were wide. Wider than anything normal. There was a nearly perfect imprint of teeth on either side of the throat. As if the creature had bitten down hard, to leave a signature, maybe? I frown harder at the thought. There was something very deliberate about that one bite. The throat was torn away, but the primary reason seems to be to kill. It was only when you got to the stomach that the creature had lost control. The way the blood seemed to pool, means the men were dead before the stomach was opened. But the creature took the time to eat the stomach. It's as if it treated the stomach like a gourmet meal prepared by Gordon Ramsey.

There wasn't nearly as much blood around the ground as you'd expect for such a gruesome crime scene. Slicing a throat is messy business. But, these throats hadn't been sliced.

If the creature had come up behind the men, there should have been some mark in the snow. But every print recorded was shoes. Had this been a bear attack like documented, then there would be paw prints all around these bodies. I quickly flick through the report to find if all the shoe prints had been accounted for.

They had been.

I sit up and slowly run my hand through my hair. My brow furrowed as I take in everything I've seen. If there were no prints, how did whatever it was that killed these men get there? Could it have flown in? There aren't many large winged predators that target humans. Stymphalian birds? They are the only winged predators that attack men. But, they aren't native to this country, and it would have been a hell of a lot messier.

Gargoyles will attack and kill a man, but it's rare. Gargoyles tend to attack but not maim and kill. They were mostly carrion eaters. In the south of France there were rumours of Gargoyles that had gone rogue and killed and eaten humans. But when they did so they ate the humans whole, they didn't leave them in this state.

I huff; this is where I need a team of people. I need some others here to help bounce ideas off. I know that Shelby is trying her hardest to recruit within the recruit classes that come in, but it takes a specific amount of knowledge and respect to do this. There's still a lot of negativity towards the paranatural world. Separate but equal is the attitude at the moment. Sighing I close my eyes and think. What else could it be? There were a few trolls in the United States, but they weren't allowed to reside near heavily populated areas. Not that they wanted humans to see them anyway. They stick to themselves. Besides I'd seen pictures of troll kills, and this definitely wasn't one. The claws were too curved, too long. Plus trolls tended to use weapons such as tree's and rocks, beating people to death.

This needed almost a muzzle to clean out the stomachs like this.

If there had been tracks leading up to the bodies, I would have definitely called it a lycanthrope kill. But a lycanthrope, they have to walk on naked feet that wouldn't fit any human shoe. And these kills didn't take place during a full moon.

I hate not being able to figure this out. It's frustrating.

I get up from my chair and crack my neck, making my way over to the staff room to grab a bottle of water. Opening the cap and taking a big gulp, images forever burned into my brain take over and I try to place those teeth marks. They are both familiar and unfamiliar. How the fuck is this possible. Maybe I'm looking at this from the wrong angle.

Oh my god, I'm a fucking idiot. I mentally slap myself and turn and run back to my computer, opening up another programme. Why the hell had I not thought of this when I realised the attacks hadn't been because of an animal.

I am considered a genius but, sometimes I'm a fucking moron.

While the Paranatural Registry loads I also open up the web browser, flicking to Google and typing in Lima, Ohio. I feel like maybe I can garner an idea of what may be happening if I know a bit more about the place. As everything loads, I contemplate calling Shelby and demanding she come down. But I decide against it, at least until I have a better idea of what the hell this is. I glance at the clock on my computer, which I'd been ignoring this whole time. I've been doing this for 5 hours, its 11pm. I should go home. But not until after I've done this.

The Paranatural Registry loads and I type in Lima, Ohio and wait for the results. I'm not expecting a huge hit. It feels like it would be a small town and though small towns tend to have a higher population of paranatural beings, the registry itself is not widely accepted within the supernatural and paranatural world. Which I can understand, paranatural beings are afraid of discrimination, especially humanoids, which live within society without anybody knowing. Teachers, doctors, lawyers and the likes, no matter how respected, once found out to be paranatural don't tend to do very well.

I flick to the Wikipedia page and begin to read;

_Lima /ˈlaɪmə/ is a city in and the county seat of Allen County, Ohio, United States.[6] The municipality is located in north-western Ohio along Interstate 75 approximately 72 miles (116 km) north of Dayton and 78 miles (126 km) south-southwest of Toledo._

_As of the 2010 census, the city had a population of 38,771. It is the principal city of and is included in the Lima, Ohio Metropolitan Statistical Area, which is included in the Lima-Van Wert–Wapakoneta, Ohio Combined Statistical Area. Lima was founded in 1831._

_The Lima Army Tank Plant, built in 1941, is the sole producer of the M1 Abrams._

Surprisingly Lima is larger than I initially thought. As I scroll down, my eyes widen in surprise, the Ohio Paranatural Council is based in Lima.

Each state has a council made up of 15 high ranking paranatural officials. Each major species has a representative and those 15 are in charge of keeping track of the paranatural beings coming and going within their state. I like to think of them as a paranatural combination of local government and the Police, but it's more intricate then that. I've dealt with a couple of councils throughout the country while trying to recruit people for the PCIU. They tend to be co-operative but they are still terrified of humans. Despite what their freedom has granted them.

I flick back to the Paranatural Registry and frown. There seems to be a higher number of paranatural characters registered within Lima than I've ever seen. I briefly glance over at the species that exist there. Vampires, Werewolves, Werebear, Wererats, Fairies, Elves, Imp's, Changelings, Lamia, Sprites, Nymphs, Pixies, Sirens, Incubi and Succubae. Jesus Christ, it just goes on. I have honestly never seen such a comprehensive list.

Thank you Lima, Ohio.

A yawn escapes me and I glance at the clock again, it's now 11.47, it's time to get some sleep, I can feel tomorrow is going to be another long day.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N**: Thank you again to all those who reviewed, favourited, followed and PM'd. It's super awesome that you are all enjoying this.

In regards to the review from Catlover10808 about learning more about how Santana dealt and learned about her powers etc, it will be addressed in later chapters. There will be hints along the way, anything regarding her Abuela is of importance.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

All mistakes are my own. I have no Beta, but if you are interested, let me know :)

A Midsummer Night's Dream references are in this, obviously I do not own the characters Oberon, Titania or Puck. I've just manipulated them for my own means.

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**Please review**

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I walked along the corridor of the PCIU floor and make my way towards my office. It's nice to be based in Quantico rather than DC, the J Edgar Hoover building has always freaked me out for some reason. Reaching my office I switch the light on and make my way to my desk and I groan at the amount of files covering it. I throw my leather satchel under my desk and sit in my seat, taking a sip of coffee from my travel mug. As I sit, contemplating the mess on my desk a shiver runs through me as if I'm being watched. I shake it off and I scratch at my arm in an act of nervousness, while, shaking my head in an act to shake out all paranoia.

I was wearing silver, it was hidden, but it was there; a cross that my Abuela had given to me when I was born. I'm always prepared for whatever. I am well known within the paranatural community. I am both loved and hated. It's a hard road that I've chosen to walk down alone. Silver isn't a friend of anybody's who will do me harm.

A laughing foursome walks past my office. Rookies. The women's high heels made a sharp theatrical clatter; I shake my head at the inappropriate footwear. Their laughter was too high, too shrill. Creepy for this hour of the morning. The foursome parted like water around a stone, as they separated into two different directions. I feel it again, a faint stirring in the air. A sensation that had nothing to do with the people who just walked by.

And then, I feel everything.

It's nothing to do with what I was working on at work, or an angry creature lurking in the shadows; but one of the downfalls of being a necromancer. For every person who passes I can feel their spirits hovering.

And sadly one of those spirits is lost.

When you die, it's upon you to decide whether or not you want to move forward unto the afterlife, or return to earth as a ghost. You have those two options, but sometimes, there are people who are in denial about their deaths, so they linger in the in-between, wreaking havoc on me, who can feel them wandering around angry.

It always seems to be someone in their middle age that denies the fact that they are dead. I don't understand why it's so difficult for them to accept death. It's the one certain thing in life. Even Vampire's, though they can live for eternity, they can be killed.

I sigh and continue to drink my coffee, hoping the person who is stomping around in the in-between calms down soon so I can work. It feels like it's going to be a long day.

I turn on my computer and check my email. Emails from various police departments wanting my help. Idiots, it's illegal for me to help them in the way they want me to without a Supreme Court order. It sounds strange, but not many dead people enjoy being raised. It's not an enjoyable experience for them. Since I have become so prominent, I have helped the government design laws in which give the dead the rights to remain dead.

Think of it like this; You are sitting in your home, just minding your own business, having a shower then bam, some force is pulling you from the shower and through walls, ripping you naked into a place you have no recollection of. Well, it's a similar sensation for the dead. Taking them from beyond the veil without reason or authority isn't worth it. They come back confused and angry.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock and I look up to see Shelby at my door.

"Shelby, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I mock from behind my desk. She shakes her head and closes the door making her way to the chair seated in front of my desk.

"Good morning to you too Lopez, I trust you had an eventful night?"

"By eventful I assume you mean tedious analysing over grotesque photographs?"

"Also, report reading."

"I only read the reports from Ohio."

"I wanted you to review all of the files I made Samantha give to you."

"All in one night Shelby? Have you lost your mind? Has the power of being second in command made you forget that we lowly agents aren't capable of powering through 25 different cases in just a few hours?"

She smirks at me and I roll my eyes

"What did you find?" I sigh and then get the hardcopies of the Ohio files from one of the stacks and remove the photographs and place them in front of her.

"I've seen these."

"I know, but do you know what caused this?" she just shakes her head in confusion.

"Shape shifter," I answer for her.

"Explain." She demands and pulls out a trusty notebook out, pen poised. I begin to explain what I'd found. What I thought.

"We haven't had a rogue lycanthrope since the PCIU was formed. Are you sure about this?"

"I said shape shifter; I didn't say anything about a lycanthrope."

"Explain."

"Okay, so by definition all lycanthropes are shape shifters, but not all shape shifters are lycanthropes. Lycanthropy is a disease that you catch from surviving an attack. You have to be infected." She looks at me still confused.

"How can you be a shape shifter and not a lycanthrope?"

"Shape shifters come in many sizes and shapes. If you aren't a lycanthrope, you can shift without suffering at any time. You aren't infected so you can't spread the disease. Shape shifters act as a guardian. Families who have long been associated with animals have a higher tendency to produce shape shifters, though; they may not show themselves unless threatened."

"So, when they change is it tied to the moon like lycanthropy?"

"No. A guardian shape shifter comes out when the family needs it. War or some kind of physical or emotional danger."

"Is that all the ways?"

"Well, there have been reports of people being cursed, but it's almost unheard of. You won't find information about it unless you really look."

"Why?" She asks and I shrug.

"You need to find a powerful enough witch or wizard to do it and they rarely exist. It takes more than just simple magic. I've read spells about simple transfiguration into animals. The potions are so full of poisons and hallucinogens that you might believe you were an animal. You might also believe you were the Chrysler building, or you might just die. Real spells for it are a lot more complex and usually require a human sacrifice. A curse is one hundred times worse than a spell. Actually, when you think about it, it's not really a spell at all." Shelby looks at me blankly and I try to think how to explain it. This is an advance level of paranatural speak, even most people who hold bachelor's degrees in paranatural biology and anthropology wouldn't understand it.

"A curse is like the ultimate act of force and of will. You have to gather all your power, magic, inner strength and focus it directly on one person. You don't want anything else in life except for this person to be cursed. You have to do it in person; you can't just send it to them in an envelope. "

"Are they the only ones that can curse people?"

"Who?" I ask to check that she is listening

"Witches and Wizards?"

"Occasionally somebody will run afoul of a fairy. One of the old royal families. Oberon and Titania's offspring, Puck was known to curse people as he aged. But you'd have to be in Europe for that. England, Ireland, parts of Scotland. In this country it'd be a witch or wizard."

"So it's definitely a shape shifter?"

"Yes"

"Not a bear?"

"No

"And we don't know what kind or even how they got to be a shape shifter?"

"Not enough evidence to say one way or the other."

"If you saw the shifter face-to-face could you tell what kind they were?"

"You mean what animal?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Nope."

"Would you be able to tell if they were cursed a guardian or diseased?"

"No." She looks at me blankly and frowns.

"You're usually better than this."

"I'm better with the dead, Shelby. You know this. Give me a vampire or a zombie and I'll tell you every single thing about them. I have a penchant for the dead, it comes naturally to me. I haven't had as much experience with shape shifters. I know things yes, but not to the extent that I do of vampires."

"So, what things can you tell me then?"

"Ask and find out," I said.

"Do you think this is a brand new shape shifter? Someone who is unable to control themselves?" Shelby asks and I sigh in contemplation.

"No, I don't think so."

"Why?"

"The first time you change on the night of the full moon. It's too excruciating, most shape shifters pass out for a period of time and their basic instinct is more animal than human. They have no control over themselves what so ever. It could possibly still be a youngling, maybe only a few months old, but. . ."

"But what?"

"If this is still a lycanthrope that can't control itself, that kills indiscriminately, it would have lingered. It would have been hunting those present at the scenes." Shelby glanced out the window behind me. She held her notebook and pen in one hand, as she held her breath. Deep in thought.

"Don't sweat it, Shelby, if it was going to eat more people, it would have taken the first on the scene, or those who were alone." Her gaze searched my face.

"So you think that whatever this shape shifter is, it can control itself?"

"I think so."

"Then why kill the men?" I shrugged.

"Why does anyone kill? Lust, greed, rage."

"Wait, are you suggesting the animal form being used as a weapon?" Shelby asks in horror

"Yes."

"Is it still in animal form?"

"How am I to know that Shelby? I'm not there to know. But I would say no, unless the perpetrator is more comfortable being animalistic."

She seems to think it over and frowns

"What about a werewolf?" I shook my head.

"I honestly can't tell what sort of animal it is. It could be any sort of mammal."

"Narrowing it down to a mammal?" she asks, eyebrow raised.

"With these wounds, I would say mammal. There are avian weres but they aren't prominent in Ohio nor would they do this sort of damage."

"I've never heard of Werebirds." Shelby states as if because she hasn't heard of them it doesn't exist.

"That would be why you employ me, one would assume Shelby, to educate you on a world you don't know." She ignores my comment and continues with her thoughts

"A werebird could have done this?"

"Yeah, but I did mention that the possibility is borderline non-existent."

"Any guesses then?" I reached for one of the photographs and stare at it. Wanting it to just tell me exactly what did this. I would have suggested I fly to Ohio so I could raise the men and ask them outright what did this. But their throats were gone. Even the dead can't talk without their vocal chords.

I frown. Maybe whoever did this, knew of my existence. I'm the only known necromancer within North America. The closest Necromancer to the United States is in Bolivia. I feel like their throats' being ripped out is significant. Were these men killed to get my attention? It's an awfully narcissistic thought. Not all Paranatural murders are committed for my benefit.

"Why did the Lima Police think these were a standard bear kill?" I ask Shelby. She takes a moment to think about it and shrugs.

"I don't know."

"Shall we ask?" Shelby nodded.

"Be my guest. I don't want to deal with LPD; local police agencies hate when we come along and ask questions about closed cases." She replies honestly and I just shrug.

"Come on, Shelby. We can't know less than we do right now."

"If LPD has any say in it, we might."

"Do you want me to ask him or not?"

"Ask." She replies simply.

I quickly run through the file and find the number for the Lima police department and who it is I am actually needing to talk to then dial the number. After dialling the number I place it on speaker phone and Shelby and I wait as it rings through.

"Lima Police Department, how can I help?"

"Hi, could you please put me through to Sheriff Schuester."

"I'm sorry, I can't just place calls through to the Sheriff at the moment, he is in a meeting. Can I take a message and get him to call you back." I glance at Shelby and she rolls her eyes at me.

"This is Special Agent Santana Lopez I'm in charge of the PCIU; I need to urgently speak with Schuester in regards to a serious matter."

"What is the PCIU?" the voice asks and I sigh

"The Paranatural Crime Investigation Unit."

"The what?"

"It's a unit within the FBI that deals with Paranatural crimes. Obviously." I roll my eyes. What a stupid question.

"Oh." I hear a muffled sound as talking happens in the background, I frown at Shelby and she just shrugs at me

"Agent Lopez, I'll put you through."

"Thank you." I say as I'm placed on hold. Horrendous elevator fills my office. I pull a face at the sound and Shelby chuckles

"Schuester." A gravelly voice interrupts the atrocious music.

"Sherriff Schuester, my name is Special Agent Santana Lopez, I work in the PCIU."

"How can I help you Agent Lopez." The voice asks cordially.

"The five suspicious deaths that have occurred recently in your jurisdiction were presented to me by the Deputy Director as she thought they seemed suspicious. I went through the files thoroughly and I was wondering why do you think this is a bear attack?"

"Why do you want to know? The cases have all been closed." I roll my eyes, honestly I just wanted to demand he answer the damn question, but I didn't.

"Just curious."

"It wasn't a mountain lion. A cat would have used its claws more. There would be more scratches."

"Why not a wolf?"

"Pack animal. Looks like only one animal to me." I nodded in agreement, I had to agree with all the above.

"So a bear by process of elimination?" I asked.

"You might say that." He answers shrilly. I can tell he really doesn't want to talk to me.

"What do you think it was, Ms. Expert?" There goes the snarky attitude that I was waiting for. Local authorities hate when special investigation units get involved, especially the FBI.

"Shape shifter." I reply simply.

"You think so."

"I know so," I said. He gave a sharp humph sound.

"Awful sure of yourself. You haven't even seen the bodies up close."

"You want me to explain everything to you Sheriff? Maybe I'll fly to Lima and show you what I've found. " I reply simply and He hesitates.

"Okay, Ms. Expert, dazzle me."

And I did, I explain everything I found just from the photographs and the initial reports from the people who discovered the bodies. When I was finished my explanation remains quiet for a moment.

"Guess it wasn't a bear, after all." He wasn't going to argue. Bliss.

"No, it wasn't."

"Cougar?" he asks hopefully.

"You know it wasn't."

"Shape shifter," he said.

"Yeah."

"I've never had to deal with a rogue Shape shifter." He replies

"There's always a first for everything." I reply simply.

"I wanted it to be a bear."

"Me, too," I reply whimsically.

I guess this means I'm going to Lima.


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N: Thank you to everyone again! Honestly, I am powering out chapters for this story like crazy. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this.**

In regards to the barrage of questions about Brittany, she will make her first appearance in chapter six.

Trust the process people.

In this chapter I am introducing my own character. I hope you like him. I'm fond of him.

Anyway, thank you all for the positive feedback, you guys are super awesome.

_**R.I.P Cory Monteith**_

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**Please Review**

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Dawn parted the sky like a curtain of light as I drove into Lima after flying into Columbus. The morning stars glimmer, slowly disappearing against the lightened backdrop. I am beginning to feel grumpy, not the "just leave me alone" grumpy, the "I'm going to murder someone if they come within my vicinity" grumpy.

Right now all I wanted was to sleep. Everything else would have to wait. I had been running on my unadulterated stubbornness for hours. In the quiet hush of the car I could feel how my body really felt. It was not happy. It hurt to grip the wheel, hurt to turn it. My whole body was stiff. Stiff from the past 72 hours. Hunched over scrutinizing and analysing reports, preparing for a trip, flying out to Ohio then driving to what feels like the middle of nowhere.

I pull into the parking lot of the building where the FBI was putting me up. Rather than fork out for a hotel they rented out an apartment. I grab my bag and satchel with my laptop in it, contemplating whether or not to get the rest of my things, but figure all my other things can wait until later, I lock up the hired car and make my way into the building.

The corridor of the apartment building was silent, the whirr of the air conditioner the only sound permeating the air. I pause half way down the corridor, close my eyes and concentrate. Sleep is the cousin of death. I can feel my neighbour's presence. It's reassuring. Silence always makes me think the worse.

The early morning is my favourite time of the day, it is a time to be alone and enjoy the silence. I appreciate more during the blanket of night. I always have. Shuffling forward I make me way towards the door that secures the area which I shall call home for the next while.

I grip the keys in hand, they jangle against each other as I reach the door, I pause and frown, the door is slightly ajar. Open a tiny crack, to the untrained eye it would appear closed, but I could plainly see it was not. I move to the left of the door and pressed my back against the wall. One million different things quickly run through my head.

Had they heard the keys jingling?

Who was inside?

I quickly became alert to every small detail, the way the light fell and bounced off different areas. My body was in emergency mode, and I hoped to God I didn't need it. I close my eyes again and breathe in deeply, trying to figure out what was in my apartment. Whatever it was, they weren't dead.

Yet.

I drew my gun and pressed my back against the wall. Now what? There was no sound from inside the apartment, nothing. Who the fuck would break into my apartment, when I myself had not yet been in it yet?

I was not in the mood for this shit.

I just wanna curl up in bed and sleep.

I took another deep breath and let it out. I don't know. I hate not knowing what is going on. It is one of the few things that scare me. I can prepare myself for so many different things, and I've been granted the opportunity to be able to prepare myself for basically anything. But simple things like this, I can't be prepared for. It terrifies me.

But, I'd never admit that out loud.

When I break it down, I have several choices. I could leave and call the police, not a bad choice. And then I'd probably get to meet Schuester in the flesh, sooner than I would like. But what could they do that I couldn't, except walk in and get killed in the place that I'm supposed to call home? That wasn't going to happen. I could wait in the corridor until whatever it was got sick of waiting and just left. That could take a while, and the apartment might be empty. I'd feel ridiculously stupid standing out here for hours, gun trained on an empty apartment. I could always just go in, gun blazing. I could push the door open and take cover as I shoot everyone inside.

If there even was anyone inside.

My adrenaline rush was fading under the frustration of too many choices. There comes a point when you are full of adrenaline, and it hits it peak and starts waning which causes you to start feeling so drained, it's like you are about to collapse. I don't think I could stand out here in the air-conditioned silence and stay alert for much longer. I wouldn't fall sleep standing up, but it was a thought. If I sat here and waited another hour, my neighbours would start waking and maybe get caught in the crossfire. Whatever was going to happen needed to happen right now.

I guess my decision has been made by process of elimination.

I stand and take a few deep breathes, trying to see if I can get any sign as to what the being in my apartment is, as a last hope but sigh in frustration. Nothing can ever be easy for me. I move quietly along the wall towards the hinge of the door and kicked it wide open. The door gave a smack as it crashed into the wall. I quickly crouch down on one knee, my shoulders hunched as if I could draw my head down like a turtle. I was betting that any gun would hit above me, chest-high. Crouched down, I was a lot shorter than chest-high.

As I swing myself round, my gun pointing at the bad guy's chest. Except his hands were already in the air, and he was smiling at me. His big broad smile.

"Don't shoot," he smiles feigning being scared.

"Rico." I growl, as I knelt there staring at him; anger rose like a super volcano. I just wanna shoot him.

"You bastard, You knew I was out here." He cracks his fingers. And I cringe. He knows I hate when he does that.

"I heard the keys." I stood, eyes searching the room. Rico had been sitting in the white chair that stood alone, facing the door. I look around to see if anybody else was with him

"I assure you, Santana, I am alone." His voice doesn't hide his amusement.

"That I believe. Why didn't you let me know you were in here you asshole?"

"I wanted to see if you were able to detect my presence. I could have blown you away when you hesitated in front of the door, with your keys jingling so nicely."

I shut the door behind me and locked it; To the outside world, they would assume with Rico inside I would have been safer locking myself out rather than in. The Executioner as he was known by the paranatural community stood in my apartment dressed all in black. He was an imposing man, tall with broad shoulders and he seemed like there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. But to me he was not frightening, he was reassuring. His presence is warm. I sigh. I missed him.

He smiles in excitement like he's about to pee himself. I hadn't seen him in years. It was exciting to see him again, but I was too angry to show any excitement.

"Santanita, are you not going to give your big brother a hug?" He opens his arms and his hulking 6'5 body moves towards me. I sigh as he reaches me and I hug him back.

"Oh Santanita, I think you've gotten taller!"

"Fuck you Rico."

"That's highly illegal Santana, I'd ask you not to. Though I can understand your want to." He winks at me and chuckles as he moves back towards the seat in the lounge.

The last time I had seen Rico I had witnessed him use a flamethrower on a vampire. Rico was a paranatural bounty hunter. The type of guy that, if the poster said "dead or alive" you can bet the being would be dead.

This is understandable when you think about the creatures he hunted. And the reason why he did what he did. I shake the memories that begin to fill my head and crack my neck.

We both went into fighting crime because of our pasts; we just went down two different paths. Shelby would love Rico to join the PCIU. Rico has all the natural talent to be a detective. Where I have the power to raise and control the dead, Rico is a dark mage, he could be a high Mage if he wanted, the lineage was there. But he harnesses his power and uses it to track and hunt.

He is an angry son of a bitch with a malicious side.

Rico had no conscience. A fucked up, traumatic childhood. It made him the perfect killer.

"I've been up for over 24 hours, Rico. I'm not in the mood for whatever this is." I gesture towards him and his things. He just smiles at me softly and I look at him more closely, and frown.

"How hurt are you?" I ask and move towards him.

"My hands are sore, bruises mostly, a few burns. I'm all right." He says as he shows his hands to me, they are ghastly. My frown deepens

"I heard you are here to do a spot of animal hunting." He grinned at me, eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement

"How did you even know that?"

"I ran into a werewolf you may know." I raise my eyebrow and think about who I've told I'm going to be in Ohio, the only person I can think of is Quinn and the blonde doctor wasn't a Werewolf nor would she have had any contact with Rico without telling me.

"Seriously Rico, the only people that know I am here are Quinn and the FBI." He smiles at me and cracks his fingers

"How is Quinnie?" He smiles, genuinely interested in Quinn.

"Why don't you call or visit her sometime and then you'd know?" I bite back

"San…"

"She is like out sister. You are our family Rico and you treat both of us like we don't exist!" I growl and he hangs his head in shame.

"How did you know I was here Rico?" I demand

"I have my sources." He states quietly. I give up and sigh

"What are you doing here Rico? You can't keep disappearing and reappearing like this."

"Why can't a guy just wanna see his baby sister?"

"Because baby sister could have killed you tonight."

"But baby sister didn't because she lovesssssssss me." He replies with the most charming of smiles. And then clears his throat

"I'm working here, I've been asked to privately investigate a case." I nodded.

"Well, as good as it was seeing you Rico; I'm going to go to bed. I need to sleep before I deal with the LPD. You are welcome to sleep on the couch."

"Thanks Santanita. I'm going to take you up on that offer." He winks, gest up and then jumps on the couch and closes his eyes. I make my way to the bedroom and then his voice rings out throughout the small apartment

"TE AMO HERMANA!"

"GOODNIGHT RICO" I yell back as I fall onto my bed in a heap.

* * *

Ringing

Ringing

What the fuck is that ringing noise?

I wake up and realise that it was a phone ringing. I groped for my mobile phone that usually lies under my pillow and find nothing. I raised my head and found the nightstand empty. Where the crap was my phone? I shrug it off as it stops ringing and my head hits my pillow again and I look over to the clock. Glowing red it displayed 10.17. I groan and smother my face with my pillow. I hear the bedroom door creak open and I turn my head and see Rico standing in a bask of light.

He holds my phone up smiling cheekily and waving it.

"Who is it?" I ask, my voice a delightful early morning hoarse

"It's Sheriff William Schuester. I asked him to wait until you woke up, but he was pretty insistent and unpleasant." His voice rises at the last point as if to make sure Schuester heard him. I sigh

"It's alright Rico; He's just doing his job."

"And you can't do yours if you don't get any sleep Santanita" Rico replies curtly. Concern drips from his voice. I swing my legs out from under the covers and sit up, rubbing at my eyes.

"He's in the middle of a murder investigation, Rico. Patience isn't anybody's strong suit in that situation"

Rico crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorjamb. The light from the living room made strong shadows on his face. He radiated displeasure. It made me smile. I patted his arm as I went past. Overbearing brother is not what I need right now. As I pass I also take the phone from his hand and immediately put it up to my ear.

"Sheriff Schuester, its Agent Lopez."

"Who's this Rico that's answering your phone in the morning?" I closed my eyes. My head hurt. I hadn't had a hell of a lot of sleep. And I can't deal with someone insinuating I had a one night stand.

"I don't think that is any of your business Schuester. How can I help you?" A moment of silence.

"Defensive, aren't we?"

"Yes. But, I'm not answerable to you am I?"

"No," he said.

"Did you call for a reason or to pry into my personal life?" I ask forcefully and look up as Rico comes into the lounge making to get his things.

"A body was found by a weirdo."

"What a professional description of the crime and person who found it. How many years of grad school did you do to learn to be so descriptive?"

"Lopez, just get your ass out here and start doing what you've been sent here to do."

"How about you tell me what the fuck you've found so I can be of assistance." Another silence. If he was waiting for me to apologize, he was in for a long wait.

"Is it connected to the murder?" I break his silence trying to get information from him.

"I don't think so, but I'm not some hotshot paranatural expert. And apparently I've been wrong before" He still sounded pissed. Maybe he wasn't getting much sleep, either.

"Where are you?"

"We're out in the middle of nowhere. On the 309."

"Where exactly on the 309?"

"Long after Ferguson reservoir. How soon can you get here?"

"Problem, I don't know where the hell you are. Can you please be more specific?"

"Keep driving until you get to Caraman Cemetery."

"Don't know it," I said. He sighed.

"Hell, we're out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Those are the only landmarks."

"Just give me the approximate coordinates and I'll put them in the GPS I'll find it." I reach for the GPS that sat in my bag and wait for Schuester's instruction.

"Just enter destination St. Paul Road, drive along it and I'll have someone come down and meet you."

"Sheriff, this is at least a forty-five minute drive." I'm usually the last expert to be called in. After the victim has been photographed, videotaped, poked, prodded, and violated. After I arrived, everyone gets to go home, or at least leave the murder scene. People were not going to be my friend after waiting for me.

"I called you as soon as I figured nothing human did it. It'll take us at least forty-five minutes to finish up and be ready for you." He replied grumpily.

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can." Schuester didn't even give a courteous farewell; he just hung up on me. I lower the phone and snarl. Rico chuckles at my expression.

"Busy day ahead?" He asks smiling smugly as he settled back down onto the couch. I scowl at him and flip him off as I enter my room to get ready.

Long day indeed.


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N** Thanks for the continuous support. This chapter is kinda iffy, but I think that may be more because I'm excited about the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

Come see me on Tumblr; ReverenceForFallenTrees.

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**Please Review**

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The road is framed by a row of stately homes just before I turn onto the 309. Old money exists out here. These houses hide behind a wrought-iron fence and a security gate; some had security guards stationed at the front. A perfect display of paranoia at its highest. I can imagine what happens behind those doors. Women sleeping with the pool boy, the oil tycoon, the property developer, the CEO of the (insert whatever name here) Corporation, flying backwards and forwards to Dubai for business. But mostly I think about the homes which most likely contain vampires. Old money equates to age. Some of these buildings are so vastly, yet beautifully antiquated. Somewhat run down, though still standing stately, are bound to hold in their basements, a room filled with coffins. I take a deep breath and search, and low and behold I can feel them, sleeping. At least 3 Vampires in this part of town. If I had the time I would try and figure out the ages of them, I can feel there is a powerful one within the vicinity but I don't really have the time to dwell upon the existence of the vampires. They would have felt my presence as I arrived. I'm sure we will meet soon enough.

My attention is suddenly diverted from the vampires back to the GPS which is now telling me to take the next left.

As I drive out further into the middle of nowhere, trees stand to attention on either side of the road, saluting me as I pass. I would imagine during the night, with the moon shining the trees would look other worldly and possessed.

My eye catches the glimpse of a strange shape on the side of the road, as I get closer I can see that a car had run into the pole and crumbled it like a broken flower stem. The sign was hard to read from this awkward of an angle. I managed to read "St. Paul Rd" I turned sharply onto the narrow road. In Lima, there had been about a three-inch snowfall. Here it looked more like six. The road hadn't been cleared. Though there were tracks from the police vehicles that had already travelled up this road. It angled sharply upward, climbing into the hills. I bite my lip, I hate driving in snowy conditions. I convinced myself that if the police cars had managed to get up the hills, so could my rental.

The trees curled over the road, naked branches bouncing under the weight of the snow. In summertime the road would be a leafy tunnel, now it was just black bones erupting from the white snow.

Like a zombie rising from the grave.

About a hundred yards further there was a run-down barn, it didn't look like it had been used in over 20 years, and just across from the entrance was a smaller gravel road. The car tracks climbed into the ahead of me and vanished over the next hill. If the gate hadn't been there for a landmark, I might have missed it. It was only when I turned the car to an angle that I caught the tire tracks leading off to the right.

I eased onto the smaller road. Branches scraped at the car, scratching down the gleaming paint job like fingernails on a chalkboard.

The land opened up to either side of the narrow road. Lightning flashes of red and blue strobe over the snow. A white stately home, the kind you expect to see in places like Georgia, sat at the end of the road. It looked as if the cars were parked all over the grass. I cringe at the thought; my Abuela hated it when people parked on the grass.

As I pull up, I notice there were people sitting in the cars, waiting. I frown, for what? By the time I got to a crime scene, all the work was usually done. Someone would be waiting to take the body away after I'd finished looking at it, but the crime-scene people should have been done and gone.

This is weird.

I pulled in next to a Lima County police car. One policeman was standing in the driver's side door, leaning on the roof. He'd been staring at the small gathering near the farmhouse, as I open my door; he turns to stare at me. His face doesn't radiate friendliness. I don't need to use any sort of magic to tell this guy was going to cause me grief.

I look up at him and smile softly, still seated. He just stares at me, I have to contain my laughter as I examine him more carefully, holy crap, and white boy has fish lips. Big, giant, trouty lips. If I didn't know better I'd say he was part fish. Maybe a werefish, if there was such a thing. A strange noise escapes me as I try to contain my laughter. I have to divert my eyes away from his lips. His hair is swept to the side like Justin Bieber the pale blonde shade reflects the colours of the flashing lights, so his hair looked alternately blue and red.

How very patriotic.

I got out of the car very carefully. I could feel him watching me as I did so. Glad to be wearing leather knee high boots as my feet sink into the snow. It was cold and wet, so I kept a death grip on the car door. The last thing I want to do was fall flat on my ass in front of the Lima Police Department. I straighten my coat and make sure my necklace with my FBI badge, that Quinn had gotten me when I made agent, was able to be seen over my layers. The blonde haired fished mouth Justin Bieber was walking very purposefully towards me. He had boots on and was having no trouble with the snow.

He stopped within reach of me. I don't think anybody ever taught him about personal space etiquette. He is uncomfortably close. I feel his eyes rake over my body, eyes lingering on my badge. I shudder, not even trying to hide the fact that he is making me uncomfortable.

"This is police business, ma'am, I'll have to ask you to leave." He smirks at me, eyes still trained on my badge

"I'm Agent Santana Lopez. I work with the PCIU." I grip my badge and move it closer to his face.

"You're not a cop." I look at him quizzically, resenting his tone.

"No, I'm a federal agent." I reply as I drop my badge and stuff my hands into the pockets of my coat.

"Then you're going to have to leave." I frown and clench my jaw. What an ass-hat.

"No, I am not; I'm here to do my job." I flash him a smile "Can you please get Sheriff Schuester for me?" I ask nicely. It never hurts to be polite.

"I've asked you to leave twice now. Don't make me ask a third time." I internally groan. Local police hate the FBI, it's hard to take a female Special Agent seriously, all those things, that you see on TV about stereotyping within the system is true.

I sigh and shut the door of the car and lean against it. A small noise is heard as I purposefully make my shoulder holster knock against the car as I lean against it.

"Why did you do that?" he growls at me. He knows I am armed.

"I drove forty-five minutes to get here and I have barely slept in over 48 hours." Try to appeal to his better nature. "Let me talk to the Sheriff and if he says I need to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't care. I say you leave. Right now." He obviously didn't have a better nature.

He moves towards me and I move out of his way. He then moves again to try and get to me but for every step he takes, I also take a step. He grumbles in frustration.

"We can play ring-around-the-Rosie if you want to, Deputy, but I'm not leaving until I've talked to Schuester." I say as I make my way to the front of the car for the second time.

"You aren't in charge here. This isn't a federal case" He stepped a little closer. I backed away.

"Oh, really? Then why was I called here? Seriously, get me the person who is."

"You don't need to talk to anyone but me," He says. He takes three rapid steps towards me. I backed up faster. If we keep this up we'd be running around the car like a Marx brother's movie.

"You're running from me."

"I don't understand the reason why you are approaching me so aggressively." I was almost around the back of the car again. Over the crackle of police radios you could hear angry voices. One of them sounded like Schuester. Why the fuck are these local cops being so ridiculous.

"Stop, right where you are," he spits in a commanding tone.

"If I don't?" I reply rolling my eyes. He dramatically looks down, moving his hand down he unclicks the flap on his holster. His hand rested on the butt of his gun.

No words necessary.

This guy was batshit crazy.

I contemplate everything that I could do right now. Just like the night before, a million ideas and scenarios infiltrate my mind. I might be able to get to my gun before he could draw his. I don't want to use my gun though. I'm very anti-gun. And this guy, he isn't supposed to be like this, he's a cop, he's supposed to be one of the good guys. If I have to use my gun, I don't want it to be on one of the supposed good guys. Besides, I don't ever wanna have to be in the position where I have to explain to other cops why I shot a cop.

That'll be a shit show.

So realistically, because of my morals, I won't be drawing my gun. I couldn't outrun him, I am reasonably quick, but his long legs would easily catch up with my short ones. Arm wrestling seemed as if it could potentially be a goer, but I would never win.

That leaves me with one option. I clear my throat and I yell like a banshee.

"Schuester! Get your fucking ass over here." As soon as I stopped, the cackle of the radios was the only sound. I glanced towards the men. A man was glancing my way. He had curly light brown hair and was wearing a woollen vest. He looks ridiculous. But he seemed to be in command, the way the others were standing around him and paying attention.

The deputy drew his gun. It took everything in me to not to go for mine. But this dipshit was looking for an excuse, any excuse to pull the trigger. I wasn't going to give it to him. If he shot me, I was going to be pissed.

Plus, I had The Executioner waiting for me to return to the FBI's apartment. And he actively holds a serious grudge towards any law enforcement agency. I'm not going to be the cause of Rico going on a murderous rampage.

I felt very human staring down that gun barrel. I am not impervious to death. Bullet wounds will hurt and or kill me. My eyes flick-up to his face. He wasn't frowning anymore. He looked very determined, and very sure of himself, as if he could pull the trigger even if I complemented his mother. I wanted to yell for Schuester again, but didn't. This moron might pull the trigger. At this distance with that calibre of weapon I was dead meat. All I could do was stand there in the snow, my hands at my sides, just waiting for anything to happen.

It was a tall broad shouldered man who walked towards us. His dark face stone like as he approached. He was tall, though not as tall as the deputy from under the sea. His slender frame was enclosed in a pale camel's-hair coat.

The man who I assumed was Schuester had gone back to yelling at someone. I couldn't tell exactly what colour uniform he was yelling at, there were at least two flavours to choose from. I caught a glimpse of a wildly gesturing arm, the rest of the man lost behind the small crowd.

"Agent Lopez, It's a pleasure to meet you." The man says quietly, holding his hand out, I take it and shake his hand firmly. Warmth quickly flows through me and I raise a suspicious eyebrow. He nods at me.

"I'm Detective Jake Puckerman." I smile at him knowingly and nod my head. Detective Puckerman is a Fairy.

"Well, Detective Puckerman, though it is a pleasure to meet you. The deputy and I seem to have a problem." I glance in the direction of the broad shouldered blonde. He is scowling at me.

"Deputy Evans, do you have your gun out?" Puckerman's voice was soft, calm, a voice to talk jumpers off of ledges.

Evans turned his head, glancing back at Puckerman.

"No civilians allowed at a murder scene, sheriff's orders."

"I don't think Agent Lopez is considered a civilian Deputy, nor do I think the FBI will be appreciative of your, own personal, lack of co-operation. Plus, I'm over one hundred percent sure the Sheriff did not say to shoot civilians." He states calmly. Rationally. Deputy Evans stares at him, his eyes narrowed, a tinge of pink to his cheeks.

"Sheriff said I wasn't to let anybody but police into the perimeter."

"Perimeter" was a pretty fancy word for someone this stupid. Of course, it was a military term. He'd probably been dying to use it in conversation for years.

"Deputy Evans, this is Special Agent Santana Lopez. She is a higher ranking official than you are." He shook his head.

"Not letting her past, unless the sheriff okays it. Anybody can fake one of those badges" Puckerman glanced back towards the group of people his eyes lingering on who I now assumed was the sheriff.

"Schuester isn't letting anybody near the body. I'm not sure why. Death isn't even his area of expertise." Puckerman says to me, trying to ignore the fact that Deputy Evans still held the gun very steady on the middle of my body. I glance up at him, he was enjoying himself.

"Put the gun away and leave Agent Lopez alone." Puckerman growls. I opened my mouth to say something but Puckerman gave a small shake of his head. I kept quiet. He had a plan, better than what I had.

"I don't take orders from you." He snaps at Puckerman, a hint of something in his eyes. It was then I realised that this may have been a combination of several different things. Me being a Special Agent for the FBI, me being a woman and me being Hispanic. Right now I feel like this was a race thing. Evans was being confronted by a black man and a Hispanic woman. And he didn't seem to appreciate it. I don't appreciate racism so I bite.

"Jealous?" I ask

"What?"

"That he's a detective and you're not."

"I don't have to take shit from you bitch." He snarls than spits next to me. I inwardly shudder in disgust.

"Agent Lopez, please, let me handle this." Jake Puckerman asks me, his eyes plea with me to not start anything that could end with either of us being on the receiving end of Deputy Evan's trigger happy finger.

"You can't handle shit," Evans said.

"You can call me all the names you like, if that makes you feel better, but I can't let you point a gun at an innocent person, let alone a Federal Agent." The detective replies calmly. I would have bitten back.

A look passed over Evans's face. I could see his brain working overtime. Puckerman was a cop, too. He probably had a gun, though to be fair the gun is the least of Evans' worries. Evans moves quickly and aims the gun at Puckerman, I frown. Puckerman raises his hands in defeat. I bite my lip and question whether or not I should now be using my gun.

"Evans, put that damn gun down!" A voice that sounded suspiciously like William Schuester rung out. Sam just snarled in response to the command.

"Evans, I said put the damn gun down. Before you get somebody killed." The man that went with the voice was the curly haired man I suspected of being Sheriff Schuester. His eyes were narrowed, nostrils flared in anger. His badge glittered on his jacket front. He hadn't left it inside on his shirt. He'd pinned it outside, so nobody would miss it.

"This ass . . ."

"We don't talk like that, Deputy, you know that."

From the look on Evans's face you could tell he just wanted to shoot someone, that someone probably being me. But, I knew Schuester probably had feelings towards me that resembled Deputy Evans. I look Schuester in the eye and I could see there was intelligence in those beady little eyes, more than you could say for Evans.

"Put it away, Sam, that's an order." He stares at Deputy Evans intently until Evans reluctantly, put the gun away. He didn't snap the holster closed, though. Asshole

Sheriff Schuester put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and looked at me.

"Evans here wasn't going to shoot anybody." He states simply. I just stared at him, frowning. Is this guy serious?

His face still looked friendly, but his eyes lost their shine. Angry. He didn't like being defied. Great. Made my night.

Three other deputies gathered at Schuster's back. They all looked sullen and ready to do anything their sheriff asked them to do. Evans stepped over to them, hand hovering near his freshly holstered gun.

Schuester beckoned Puckerman and I to one side, and clears his throat.

"Tell me what happened." So we did.

"You honestly think he was going to shoot you?" Schuester snorts and Puckerman's stare falls to the ground down at the trampled snow for a moment then looked up.

"I'm not sure, Sheriff."

"Lopez?"

"Yes. Given the opportunity I think so."

"You think so?"

"I didn't think anybody was stupid enough to pull a weapon on a Federal Agent." I say stiffly. His shoulders hunched in thought.

"Sheriff, why don't you let us get on with our work? We're all cold and tired and want to go home." Puckerman asks Schuester softly. Schuester glares at the detective and nods

"Richardson and Abernethy were on their way into work when the call came over the radio that somebody had found a body. Evans was near but said he was tied up and couldn't get to the body for at least an hour. Abernethy saw the body, He made the call. He thought the man hadn't been killed by anything human. Protocol is we call in the Council anytime we suspect paranatural activity. But I figured Agent Lopez is probably more appropriate to call." I nod and sneak a glance sideways at Puckerman, I'd bet a million dollars he was the council representative. Even if the LPD didn't know it.

"When, Evans and Cunliffe arrived, they called in to say they here didn't think it was anything paranatural. A bear attack. Told me they thought Abernethy was being over dramatic. But I'd already called you." He nods towards me.

"Agent Lopez, Gentlemen" Puckerman addresses us "we have a dead body in the woods. The crime scene is not getting any younger. Valuable evidence is being lost, let's get to work."

"A bear attack is not a crime scene, Detective." Evans says and then giggles like a school boy.

"Agent Santana Lopez is our paranatural expert. If she says it was a bear attack, we'll all go home. If she says it was paranatural, you let us do our job, and treat it as a crime scene. Agreed?" The detective took charge and smiles at me, the group murmurs in agreement and I let out a sigh of relief. Movement catches the corner of my eye and I look around to see a man approaching.

"I'm Ryder Lynn, I'm the caretaker here. I found the body." The man states simply, he's a dorky looking man with broad shoulders.

"I'm Sheriff Schuester. These are my associates, Detective Jake Puckerman, and Agent Santana Lopez." Lynn nods his head in acknowledgment.

"You know all of us, Ryder?" Schuester asks him.

"Yes, I do," Lynn replies. He didn't seem too excited about knowing them all.

"I told Deputy Evans that I didn't think it was a natural animal. I still don't, but if it is a bear, it slaughtered that man. Any animal that'll do that once, will do it again." He looked down at the snow, then up, like a man rising from deep water.

"It ate parts of that man. It stalked him and treated him like a prey animal. If it really is a bear, it needs to be caught before it kills somebody else."

"Ryder here has a degree in biology," Abernethy's voice calls out

"So do I" I said. Of course, I also have a degree in anthropology and my degrees are in the paranatural area.

"I'm working on my doctorate," Lynn says excitedly. Nothing like talk of biology to get a bio-nerd PhD student excited. I was the same.

"Yeah, studying bird shit," Evans said.

Ryder bows his head, his ears tinged with red.

"I'm studying the feeding habits of the Northern Goshawk." I have a degree in biology. I knew what that meant. He was collecting bird shit and regurgitated pellets to dissect. So Evans was right.

Sort of.

"Is your doctorate in ornithology?" I asked. I was proud of myself for remembering the Latin name for owls. Lynn looked at me with a sense of kinship in his eyes.

"Yes! Ornithology." He smiles brilliantly at me.

"I don't need no college degree to know a bear attack when I see it." Evans butts in. I don't know why this guy is still hanging around.

"The last reported bear sighting in Lima County was in 1937," Lynn retorts. Score one for bio-nerd

"In-fact, I don't think there's ever been a bear attack reported." The implication just sat there. How did these people know a bear attack if they'd never seen one?

"Listen here, college boy—" Evans snarled and rounded on him

"Maybe it is a bear," Puckerman throws out almost too whimsically. We all looked at him. Evans nodded not picking up on anything hidden behind the detective's words.

"That's what I've been saying." The deputy exasperatedly spits

"Then you better order up a helicopter and get some dogs out here."

"What are you talking about?" Evans' brow furrows in confusion

"An animal that would do that to a human, probably is just looking for another one, once a bear has gotten a taste of human flesh it's hard to stop it from wanting more." Puckerman's face was unreadable, just as serious as if he believed what he was saying.

"Now, I don't want to get dogs down here. Start a panic if people thought there was a mad bear loose. "Schuester cuts in, Puckerman and I just stare at him incredulously. If it was a bear, he needed to treat it like a bear.

"Maybe Agent Lopez ought to have a look." He rubbed the cold tip of his nose.

"Wouldn't want to start a panic for the wrong reasons." He added. Obviously didn't want people to think there was a rampaging bear on the loose. But he didn't mind people thinking there was a monster on the loose. Or maybe Sheriff Schuester didn't believe in monsters.

Maybe.

We walked through the deep snow to the murder scene. Sorry, Possible murder scene. I didn't see the body at first. All I saw was the snow. It had pooled into a deep drift in one of those hollows that you find in the woods. In spring the holes fill with rain and mud. In fall they pile deep with leaves. In winter they hold the deepest snow.

I stood at the edge of the clearing staring down at the mishmash of tracks. Somewhere in all this were the murderer's tracks, or a bear's tracks, but unless it was an animal I didn't know how anyone was going to figure out which tracks were significant. Maybe all crime scenes were tracked up this much, the snow just made it obvious. Or maybe this scene had been screwed over.

Yeah. Screwed over is what I'm betting on.

Every track, cop or not, led to one thing—the body. Detective Puckerman had said the man had been sliced up, eaten. I didn't want to see it. It wasn't fair to start the day by looking at partially eaten bodies. Of course, the dead man probably thought being eaten hadn't been much fun either.

I took a deep breath of the cold air. My breath fogged as I exhaled. I couldn't smell the body. If it'd been summer, the dead man would have been ripe. Yay for the cold.

"Are you just going to do your work from here?" Schuester asks.

"No," I said.

"Looks like the expert is losing her nerve." The sheriff chuckles. I turn to him. His face was smug, pleased with itself. I don't wanna see the body; I never wanna see the body. But I am not losing my nerve about it. Jerk face.

"You better hope this isn't a murder scene. Sheriff, because it has been fucked twenty ways to Sunday."

"You're not helping anything, Agent Lopez." Puckerman mutters softly. He was right, but I wasn't sure I cared.

"You got any suggestions for preserving the crime scene, or can I just march straight in like the fifty billion people before me?"

"There were only four sets of footprints when I was ordered to leave the scene," Abernethy said. Evans frowned at him.

"When I determined it was an animal attack, there was no reason to keep it secure." Evans' southern accent was getting thick.

"Yeah, right," I said. I glanced at Puckerman.

"Any suggestions?"

"Just walk in, I don't think there's much to preserve now."

"You criticizing how I run things?" Schuester asks Puckerman.

"No," Jake replies, "I'm criticizing the department."

I turned away so Schuester wouldn't see me smile. Puckerman obviously doesn't suffer fools gladly. No bureaucratic ass will be spared.

I stepped into the hollow. Puckerman obviously didn't need my help to hand Schuester his head on a platter. As I approach the body carefully, I can already tell this is exactly like the others. The crime scene is identical to the ones I'd already looked over. Throat gone, stomach used as an all you can eat buffet.

"Puckerman." I yell

"Yes?" he replies and makes his way over to me.

"This is a shapeshifter, I'm thinking wolf but could be bear or mountain lion, something with a long pointed mouth. Not avian. If the scene hadn't been fucked sideways I could probably find some evidence. But, I definitely think we are looking at a shapeshifter and not a lycanthrope." I whisper to him so Schuester doesn't hear. He seems like the kind of person that would start a witch hunt.

"I thought that as well, but people have been leaving me out of these investigations." I frown at him confused as to why.

"Why?

"I honestly am not sure." He replies. His voice betrays the bitterness he feels.

"Do they know you are a fey?" I ask casually.

"No, but they are aware I know some questionable beings." He places his hands in his pockets and looks at me sheepishly.

"Questionable as in?"

"My girlfriend is a Lycanthrope; she was attacked two years ago in New Mexico. It was highly publicized. Her parents used it as a platform to try and make the paranatural illegal. Obviously, it wasn't successful but It was awful." He says stoically, but his face is betraying him

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

I look at him and see the pain in his eyes. It's hard to be so close to someone with such an awful disease. I quickly take his mind off that.

"Are the council aware of what is happening?" I ask changing the subject.

"They are aware that something has been happening. But because the police aren't involving them on any level they can't come in and do a thing about it. The other week the Alpha wolf had some of his pups report that they felt the presence of an undefined rogue as they were playing in the woods not far from here. But by the time the elders came to investigate, any trace of it was gone." He relays what he knows and I'm appreciative of it. I think for a moment, the council needs to be involved and I need to talk to them immediately.

"I need to talk to the head of the Ohio Council immediately, can you arrange it?" I ask

"Yes, I will talk to my brother and try to organise something around dusk."

"Vampire?"

"Good guess." He winks at me.

"I'm thinking about getting in touch with Deputy Director Corcoran and see about her sending a couple more agents down. Would Schuester object?"

"I think this goes beyond Schuester's expertise. I believe this investigation is now yours. It's a paranatural case; Schuester isn't trained in anything to do with the paranatural. Plus, FBI trumps local police." He chuckles.

I smile at him. I'm glad Puckerman is on my side.

"I will go and try to organise a meeting with the council tonight. "He nods his head and leaves.

I turn and look back at the body and take it all in again. I hope I can get some sort of answers tonight.


	7. Chapter Six

**A/N:** I had to break this chapter up, to include everything I wanted was going to make it ridiculously long, so the next chapter will hopefully be up in a couple of days. Thank you to all my new readers, favourites, follows and the likes.

And to my trusty reviewers, you are all awesome. Thank you for continuing to read this it means a lot!

This chapter is for Runephoenix6769 I know you've been excited about this chapter. :)

All mistakes are my own and I don't own Glee.

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**Please Review**

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I checked my make up one last time and look at my watch. Detective Puckerman said he'd be here 5 minutes ago. I hate when people are late. I run my hand through my hair and reach for my phone; I'm going to call him. Perhaps it was a fairy thing to be late, wanting to make a grand entrance or something, but I prefer to be on time. None of this grand entry shit. I prefer people not noticing me.

Though, I have no doubt in my mind that I'll be noticed. Probably not in the way I'd like to be either.

I chuckle to myself when Rico's head pops through the crack in my door.

"Santana, you need to go and get some groceries."

"You go and get some groceries."

"I'm just a guest."

"Well, this isn't my house."

"Technically it is Santana."

"Semantics"

"Whatever, can you go get some food, I'm hungryyyyyyyyy" Rico whines like a little kid. I don't know why Quinn is so hung up on him.

"Who said you could stay here anyway? I am one hundred percent sure I said only for a night."

"Well, I'm staying for a bit. I invited myself and you love me, so I know you won't mind." He flashes me a charming smile and I flip him the bird.

"Fine" I growl

"Santana, we need to talk about..." before he can finish his sentence he's cut off by a knock on the door. He strides over to answer the door as I follow behind reaching for my leather jacket as Rico answers the door.

"Uh, Hello. I'm here to pick up Agent Lopez" I hear Jake's voice as I pull my jacket on.

"Uh, yeah. Hang on." Rico replies and closes the door. He turns to look at me and wriggles his eyebrows.

"Ohhhh, Santana, your boyfriend is here." He sings and I roll my eyes at him.

"Detective Puckerman has arranged a meeting for me with the head of the council. This is work and he's not my type." I snap in reply and make my way towards the door. Rico grabs my arm, stopping me from going further.

"Be careful of him. He's a fairy." Rico whispers in a concerned fashion.

"Rico, I've been working with him all day. I can handle myself." I whisper back hurriedly.

"He's an Orin." Rico says simply and I look at him sharply, taken back.

"How? I didn't think there were any in the States."

"I don't know Santana but be careful." The seriousness in his voice puts me a little on edge, his eyes aren't playful anymore.

"I'll be careful Rico. Are you sure he's an Orin though?"

"Yes, I've encountered them before. I didn't know there were any in the US though." He replies. I simply nod. And then reach up and make sure my silver cross necklace is showing. Rico brings me closer and gives me a quick one armed squeeze and then lets me go.

"Be careful" he states again as I make my way to the door, opening it and finding Jake Puckerman waiting, distracting himself on his phone.

"Agent Lopez, pleasure to see you again." He smiles at me as he places his phone back into his pocket

"You too detective Puckerman." I smile back and he chuckles.

"Call me Jake."

"Call me Santana." I reply

"Okay then, Santana have you eaten?"

"Not yet, why?"

"I have a treat for you then. Let's go." He gestures excitedly and we make our way out of the building and he guides me to his black Ford Explorer. How stereotypical.

He opens my door for me and I climb in. Chivalry isn't dead apparently. He climbs in and we make our way out of the car park.

We drove in silence towards the outer area of Lima; I remember driving in the other direction earlier this morning as I made my way from Columbus.

I stare into the dusking night. There were fewer buildings out this part of town. The trees lined the road thicker out here, trees along the side of the road seems to be a common attribute to Lima. As we continue driving I spy in the distance an established clearing. The trees formed a backdrop for a one-story building.

A wooden sign hung from the eaves. It was hard to read by twilight, but it might have read "Pyramus and Thisbe." Dark wooden shingles covered the roof and climbed down the walls, so that the entire building looked like a natural growth that had sprung from the red clay soil. About thirty cars and trucks were parked haphazardly on the dark gravel. The sign swung in the wind, the lights of the Ford reflecting off the deeply carved words. "Pyramus and Thisbe bar and grill." I walked carefully over the gravel in my high heels. Jake's dress shoes worked better on gravel than mine did.

"Pyramus and Thisbe is a strange name for a bar and grill. The original star crossed lovers" I muse out loud. Jake just makes a strange face at me.

"They make a fantastic steak." He chuckles

"After what I saw today, I'm not sure I could eat steak." I reply, remembering the body splayed in the snow.

"Me either." Jake replies as he opens the door and beckons me forward.

I step into the bar and take in my surroundings, most of the bars I've been to are gloomy places to drink and hide. A place of refuge. As refuges went, this was a good one. There was a bar along one side of the room, and a dozen small tables scattered on the dark polished wood floor. Every surface was dark wood and polished. Candles shone from the walls. A chandelier with more candles hung from the low, dark wood ceiling. The wood was mystical, almost dream-like, glowing in the light rather than reflecting it. The beams that supported the ceiling were carved with fruiting vines and stray leaves that looked like oaks.

This bar makes me think of what I picture bars to have looked like in medieval Eastern Europe. It was warm and inviting. I'd never felt so comfortable being somewhere before.

Looking around I notice a lot of the faces that were in here were male; their eyes slid over me taking in the stranger I suppose, they smile at Jake and then went back to their drinks.

There were some women grouped three deep at the bar. They were dressed for a typical Friday night, if you planned to spend Friday night on a street corner propositioning strangers. Their eyes were trained on Jake in a disturbing fashion, as if they wanted to eat him. Me, they seemed to hate on sight. They looked at me like they saw something I didn't. It made me glance behind me to see if someone had come in behind us, even though I knew no one had.

My senses were on high alert; there was a lot of paranatural activity in here. I could sense a very old vampire. Foreign in origin, perhaps European. Scandinavian? A Komtesse? I look around at everybody and couldn't see who it was. There was a bit of fairy magic lingering around the bar as well. And something forest like, an elf perhaps or a nymph. I would keep an eye out.

"Shall we?" Jake whispered and gestured towards the bar.

"Sure." I reply softly.

We make our way towards the bar; behind it was a tall man. The first thing I notice about him is his disgusting mohawk. Of course the bartender would have a mohawk. The candle flames gleamed in his hair the same way they shone on the polished wood of the bar. He raised his breath taking brown eyes to us and smiles broadly. He was dark and handsome. He radiated charm and I suddenly understood why the bar was three deep in women.

"Hey bro, I'll be with you in a sec." Jake just nodded in reply as the man sat an amber-filled glass down on a tiny napkin and said,

"You're up, Eli." His voice was sing song.

A man got up from the tables, Eli probably. He was a large, lumbering man, he reminded me of Frankenstein's monster. Not an Abercrombie model that's for sure. He reached for his drink, and his arm brushed the back of one of the women. The woman turned around, angry. I expected her to tell him to fuck off, but the mohawked man behind the bar reaches out and touches her arm. She went suddenly very still. The air wavered. I was suddenly very aware that Eli smelled of soap and water. I shook my head and stepped back into Jake. He caught my arm.

"What's wrong?" he asks and I stare intently at him, clutching his arm. I turn back to the bar. Eli and the woman had gone to sit at a table. She was kissing the palm of his calloused hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ" I whisper.

"What's wrong, Santana?" Jake asks softly. I took a deep breath and stood away from him.

"I'm okay; it was just unexpected."

"What was?"

"Magic." I stepped up to the bar. Those amazing eyes stared back at me, but there was no power to them. It wasn't like dealing with a vampire. They were so very plainly human. I could gaze into those beautiful eyes forever, and they would still just be eyes.

I placed my hands on the gleaming wood of the bar. More vines and leaves curved around the edge of the antiquated wood. I ran my fingers over the deep carvings. Hand-carved, all of it. The mohawked man followed my lead and I watch as his fingertips caressed the wood like it was skin. It was a proprietor's touch, the way some men touch their girlfriends when they're into ownership. I was betting that he'd carved every inch of it himself. His eyes were trained upon mine.

"Puck, you don't need a stranger." A brunette in a dress two sizes smaller than it should have been touched his arm. The man named Puck took his eyes off me and turned to the brunette. He trailed those caressing fingertips down her arm. She shivered. He raised her hand gently from his arm, pressing his lips to the back of her hand.

"You can have anyone you want, darlin'. You are too beautiful to be alone tonight." I scoff and see the man named Puck wink at me. This woman was the exact opposite of beautiful. I'd seen angry Siren's more beautiful than this woman.

I was staring right at her from not a foot away, and her face smoothed. Her eyes were suddenly large and sparkling, her thin lips full and moist. It was like seeing her through one of those soft filters from instagram. I glance at Jake. He looks at me with a small smirk upon his face. I turn back and notice that the woman was no longer the woman that had stood before me. She was the same woman, but she wasn't. I frown and stare out over the bar, every male in the place except Eli was staring at the woman in exactly the same way, as if she'd just appeared before them like Cinderella transformed by her fairy godmother.

I turned back to the bar tender. He wasn't paying attention to the woman; he was staring intently at me. I leaned into the bar, meeting his gaze. He smiled slightly.

"Love charms are illegal." I state simply. His smile widened.

"You're far too beautiful to be the police princesa." He reaches out to touch my arm; I move it away from him.

"Touch me and I'll have you arrested for using undue paranatural influence." I smirk

"It's a misdemeanour," he replies.

"Not if you're using it on human's it's not." I reply. He blinks at me, taken back. I think I surprised him.

"Let's talk at a table," he suggests and moves away from the bar.

"Fine with me." I reply and look over to Jake. He smiles at me again.

"Sarah, can you take over for a few minutes?" Puck's voice calls out.

A woman came behind the bar. Her face, free of hair and makeup, was triangular, exotic, and catlike. Her eyes were the same startling brown as Puck's. The men nearest the bar watched her out of the corners of their eyes, as if afraid to look directly at her.

I look back over to Jake and he waves to the woman. Obviously he knows them quite well.

"I'll watch the bar, but that's all," she snaps. She then turns those eyes to Jake and says "Hey Jakey, it's been awhile." Her voice was sweet and pleasant. Unlike what it was when she addressed Puck.

"Shalom Sarah." She smiles at him and then her attention turns to me and I cringe. At the glare she gives me.

"Sarah, be nice to the customers." The mohawked man says as he steps out from behind the bar. He was wearing a forest green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, top button undone, and a black vest over the top. Torn skinny jeans adorned his legs and he wore black chuck Taylors on his feet. He should have looked sloppy, too casual among everyone else duded up for a Friday night, but he didn't. His utter confidence made the outfit seem perfect. I think he could wear a potato sack and look amazing.

Puck led us to a table at the back of the bar. He stood, letting me choose my seat; very gentlemanly of him. I sat with my back to the wall so I could see both doors and the room. It was sort of a paranoid move, but magic rode the air.

Jake sat to my right. He'd watched me and scooted his chair a little back from the table so he could see the room too.

Puck smiled at us both, indulgently, like we were doing something cute or amusing. I wasn't in the mood to be amusing.

"Love charms are illegal," I say quietly as not to draw attention.

"You said that already," Puck replies flashing me a smile that I think was meant to be charming and harmless.

I had quickly figured out that he sure as hell wasn't harmless. I stare at him until the smile wilted around the edges, and he swallows. He spread his long-fingered hands on the table top, staring at them. When he looked up, the smile was gone. He looked solemn, a little nervous even.

Good. I enjoy making people nervous.

"It's not a charm," he states simply.

"The hell it isn't," I snap back.

"It isn't. A spell, but nothing as boring as a stupid charm."

"You're splitting hairs," I said. Jake was staring at us intently.

"Was that stuff at the bar a love charm?"

"What stuff at the bar?" Puck's face was incredibly mild, as if he thought I would believe him. Jake looks at me a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"I know it was magic." Puck turned his attention to Jake for the first time, excluding me—and I felt excluded. It was like a ray of sunshine had moved away from me, and I was just a little colder, a little more in the dark. I shake my head.

"Cut the glamor crap." Puck turned back to me, and for a minute I felt that warmth.

"Stop it."

"What?" He says innocently and I stood up.

"Fine; let's see how funny you think you are in jail." Puck encircled my wrist with his hand. His skin should have been work-roughened, but it wasn't. His skin was unnaturally soft, like living velvet. Of course, that could have been illusionary, too. Warmth flooded my body and I snap my arm back, breaking his touch. This guy was an Orin, and if Rico was right and Jake is an Orin, that would mean they are related? Brothers? The Orin's are one of the two fey royal families, alongside the Oberon's. I was sitting with the strongest Fairy I'd ever meet. Holy shit. I look directly into Jake's eyes and he just shrugs at me. A little warning would have been nice asshole

"Women don't pull away once I've touched them." He says out loud, a small smile on his face, amused at what he's learnt just from the simple touch.

"You use magic on me one more time, and I'll arrest you." He stared up at me, a thoughtful look on his face. He nodded.

"You win. No more magic on you."

"Or anyone else," I bite back seriously. I sit back down carefully, putting a little more distance between us.

"My customers would riot if I took my magic away." He says seriously.

"You can't manipulate them like this. It is illegal, and I will arrest you for it."

"But everyone knows that Friday night is lovers' night at Pyramus and Thisbe" Puck said.

"What's lovers' night?" I ask. Puck smiles, already regaining some of his easy charm, but that flicker of warmth was gone. He was being true to his word, as far as I could tell. Jake chuckles at me and I frown.

"I make everyone sexy for the night. For the evening you can be the lover of your own dreams, and someone else's. "Puck looks at me and smiles softly.

"What are you?" I ask, I want to hear him say it out loud.

"What looks like a homo sapiens, can breed with Homo sapiens, but isn't a Homo sapiens?" He questions in a sing song manner.

"Arcanus. So, you are a Fairy?"

"Keep your voice down," Puck said. He glanced around at the near tables. No one was playing much attention to us. They were too busy gazing into each other's magically enhanced eyes.

"How are you passing as a human?" I ask.

"The Puckerman's have told the future and made love charms for centuries. As well as other things."

"Wait, Puckerman? As in Puck?"

"Yes"

"As in Robin Goodfellow Puck?"

"As in Puck, Puck?"

"Mmhmm"

"Puck as in, that shrewd and knavish sprite, call'd Robin Goodfellow: are not you he, That frights the maidens of the villagery; Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern And bootless make the breathless housewife churn; And sometime make the drink to bear no barm; Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm? Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck: Are not you he?"

"Yes. Well, no I'm not Robin Goodfellow, I'm Noah Puckerman. Puck is our grandfather"

"Ours?"

"Mine, Noah's and Sarah's." Jake smiles at me. I think about this for a moment and before asking anymore questions about their family, I didn't know that the Orin's were founded by Puck. That makes sense, but I still can't get my head around this.

"You said it wasn't a love charm," I say distractedly.

"They think it is, but you know what it is." He replies courteously.

"Glamor?" I question, I've never met a Fey that could glamour, and I thought that was restricted to vampires. Jake nods his head and Noah smiles broadly.

"It's fairy magic at its highest. Only one family possesses the ability to do so. Only one family strong enough. It's rare. " Puck smiles at me proudly.

"So, it doesn't work unless you're royal? Are you an Orin? I know you aren't part of Oberon's court. I'm familiar with a few of Oberon's court" He stared at me with his beautiful eyes and smiled gently.

"The Orin court is known for its cruel and mischievous behaviour. We've been labelled evil. What I do here is not evil. For one night these people can come here and be their own fantasies. They think its love charms, and I let them. We all keep the secret of this small illegal act."

"But it's not love charms." I say following along with him

"No, it's natural talent on my part. Using my own home-grown magic isn't illegal if everyone knows I'm doing it."

"So you pretend its love charms, and everyone looks the other way because they're having a good time, but it's really fairy glamor, which isn't illegal with permission of the participants."

"Exactly, now if I was descended from the dark side of fairy, would I do anything to bring pleasure to so many?" He replies smugly

"If it suited your needs, yeah."

"Isn't there a ban on Orin court moving to this country?" I ask Jake

"Yeah," he nods. He's been awfully quiet

"But our family moved here before the ban went into effect. The Puckerman's have been here for almost one hundred years."

"How does Puck fit into all of this?" I ask.

"Puck and Oberon were good friends; Oberon gifted Puck a vast forest. Puck proclaimed himself King of said forest, then he and his people raised up against Oberon. After a long war, with many sacrifices on both sides, they came to an agreement which stated they would live together peacefully. Puck then changed his name to Orin so that his family could live without the knowledge of what he'd done for Oberon following theme through history." Jake recalls. I nod along with him, this is so fascinating.

"I didn't know that" He blinked at me.

"If you aren't fey, you have no reason to." Jake replies.

"So, miss question everything, I have a question for you. What are you?" Noah asks a smug look upon his face.

"I'm a Special Agent for the FBI." I say and flash him my badge. Jake chuckles beside me and I look at him frowning.

"Is that all you do?" He asks me bluntly, staring at me very intently. Is he trying to read my mind?

"I'm the head of the Paranatural Crime Investigation unit." I reply, He shakes his head gently.

"I didn't ask what you did for a living. I asked what you were." I frowned. He's asking what I am.

"I don't know how to answer you." I answer him. He was still staring at me. I really don't like saying what I am out-loud. It has dark connotations and I'd much rather be respected for my ability to do things without that word following me around.

"Yes, you do. I can see a word in your eyes. One simple word." When he said it, a word did come to mind.

"Necromancer. I'm a necromancer." Puck Laughs and claps his hands in excitement.

"Does Schuester know what you are?" he asks smugly

"I doubt he'd understand even if I told him." I reply honestly. Not many people understand it. When they find out, they believe me to be evil.

"I've heard many stories about you. Do you really have the ability to control all types of the dead?" Puck asked.

"Yes" I sigh

"I'm 137 years old and I've never met a necromancer. The idea I had of one was not you. Death and beauty don't tend to go hand and hand." He smiles at me

"Don't flirt with me Noah. It won't get you anywhere."

"What would get me somewhere?" He winks at me and I sigh.

"I'm not asking you out on a date. I'm asking you for sex." I frown and glare at the eldest Puckerman.

"Sex between paranatural beings is always amazing, Agent Lopez. Far superior to that with a human. Magic heightens the pleasure" He shrugs his shoulders as I continue to glare at him.

"I've made you uncomfortable. I am sorry, but I'd never have forgiven myself if I hadn't asked. It's been a long time since I was with anyone who wasn't straight human. Let me buy you a drink, to make up for my rudeness. And to fill in time while you wait for the Marquise" I shook my head.

"The head of the council is a Marquise? Are you all fucking royal here?" I ask stunned

"No, the only royals are the three of us. The Marquise is just a noble. And has been for a very long time." I nod my head in understanding.

"Can we get menus as well Puck, we haven't eaten yet." Jake asks his brother.

"The meals will be on the house." He smiles at me and I just nod. Puck turns to the bar and hollers "Two menus please Sarah." Sarah grumbled and makes her way over.

"I'm not your waitress, Puck!" Sarah growls

"Don't forget I'm meeting with the Marquise tonight, Sarah." His voice was mild. She wasn't fooled. "I'll take care of everybody before I leave. You won't have to sully your morals." She glared at all of us in turn.

"You're leaving with them?"

"Yes, we've a meeting with The Marquise once they've eaten." he said. She turned on her heel and stalked back to the bar. The men who weren't paired off watched her swaying back, carefully, not staring until she couldn't see them.

"Your sister doesn't approve of you?" I asked.

"Sarah doesn't approve of a lot of things."

"She has morals."

"Implying I don't," he said. I shrugged.

"You said it, not me." I reply and Jake snickers beside me. Noah glares at his brother.

"Let's just order our food," I say and Jake smiles.

I look down at the menu; it was a laminated piece of paper printed on both sides. I order a cheeseburger, well done, house fries, and a large Coke. I hadn't had caffeine in several hours; I was running low. Jake was frowning at the menu.

"I don't think I could even eat a hamburger right now."

"They make a mean steak" I reply cheekily and Jake rolls his eyes at me. Puck laid his fingertips against the back of Jake's hand.

"Something is behind your eyes. Something awful lies behind your eyes." Jake yanks his hand back, breaking the contact with Noah.

"Don't touch me Puck, you know the rules" Puck rolls his eyes at his brother and then turns his eyes to me, but there was more than just their colour to make them hard to stare at. The pupil of his eyes had spiralled down like the eye of a bird. Human eyes just didn't do that. I was suddenly very aware that he had seen what Jake and I'd seen earlier.

"Stop reading us, Noah." Jake growls lowly

"You wore gloves, or I'd be able to tell what you'd touched," he replies nonchalantly.

"It's an on-going police investigation. Anything you discern by psychic means must be held confidential, or you're liable just as if you stole information out of our files." I reply automatically

"Do you always do that?" he asked.

"What?" I raise my eyebrows

"Quote the law when you're nervous."

"Sometimes." I say and rub the back of my neck nervously.

"I saw blood, that's all. My gifts are rather limited in the area of far-seeing. You should shake Sarah's hand. Far-seeing is her strong suit."

"Thanks, but no thanks," I reply quietly and Jake smiles.

"Touch clairvoyance isn't a traditional fey power."

"Our many-times-great-grandmother was the daughter of a psychic, so the story goes."

"Getting magic from both sides of the family tree," I said.

"Dirty pool."

"Clairvoyance isn't magic," Jake said.

"A really good clairvoyant will make you think it is," I said. I stared at Puck. The last clairvoyant who had touched me and seen blood had been horrified. He hadn't wanted me anywhere near him. He literally ran away. Noah didn't look horrified at the potential; in fact he'd offered to have sex with me. Knowing of the horrors I hide in my mind. Different strokes for different folks.

"I'll take your order through to the kitchen myself, if you'll just decide what you want," he said. Jake stared at the menu.

"A salad, I guess. No dressing." He thought about it some more.

"No tomatoes." Puck started to stand.

"I'll go get your food. One naked salad coming up."

"You remember what I'm getting?" I asked.

"Meat burned to death; I remember."

"You sound like a vegetarian."

"Not at all, I eat all sorts of things." He winks at me, and then walks away through the crowd before I could reply to his obvious insinuation. Just as well. For the life of me, I couldn't think of a good comeback line.

Sarah brought our food without a word. She seemed angry—maybe not at us, but with us. Or with everything.

I sympathized.

Puck went behind the bar, spreading his own special brand of magic to his customers once more. He glanced our way and smiled but didn't come back to finish our talk.

Of course; we'd been finished. I was all out of questions.

I took a bite of my cheeseburger. It was almost crispy around the edges, not a smidgen of pink in the centre. Perfect.

"What's wrong?" Jake asked. He was nibbling at a lettuce leaf. I swallowed.

"Why should something be wrong?"

"You're frowning," he said.

"Puck didn't come back to the table."

"So? He answered all your questions. Do you suspect him of something?" Jake shook his head.

"No… I don't know."

"He has a job to do. He will be back when the Marquise is ready for you. Don't over think things Santana, you'll drive yourself mad"

"Why didn't you tell me you were an Orin?"

"Why didn't you openly state you had magical capabilities beyond Necromancy?"

"What are you talking about?

"Never mind." He replies and starts to play with his salad

I frown and take a bite of burger. Jake squinted his eyes tight.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"There's juice coming out of your burger. How can you eat that after what we just saw?"

"I guess this means you don't want me to put ketchup on my fries." He looked at me with something near physical pain on his face.

"How can you make jokes, after what you have seen?" An airy voice questions beside me. I look sideways and see her. I hadn't seen anybody approach Jake and I. She just appeared, from seemingly nowhere.

I look to Jake and he is standing, his face unreadable. The beautiful woman smiles at him and skips towards him, throwing her arms around him, then stepping back.

"Shalom Aleichem Jacob, it's a pleasure to see you again." She smiles at him and he bows.

"Aleichem Shalom Marquise, it's always a pleasure to see you." He takes her hand and kisses it softly, looking directly into her eyes.

I stand up immediately when I realise whose presence I am in.

"Agent Lopez. Welcome to our delightful restaurant. You are every bit the beauty that I sensed and Noah had informed me of. I am the Marquise Brittany Pierce" Her voice is so airy and magical, I blush at her sentiment.

"Marquise." Is all I can muster as I hold out my hand and she takes it. As soon as our hands come into contact everything about her is all consuming. My senses are heightened to levels beyond imaginable; I can almost taste her in the air. Sweet with a hint of iron. Her hand is soft as a cloud in my own. I can see every little imperfection upon her once seemingly perfect skin. I can see all the shades of blue within her eyes. It feels as though the room has gotten brighter and as if she has sprouted a halo. She smells of bubble-gum and metal with a hint of something I can't quite distinguish. Whatever it is it's intoxicating. A wave of heat runs up my arm and through my body like I've been placed under a waterfall of hot water, the heat sinks into my stomach and unleashes a swarm of butterflies.

As the Marquise retracts her hand, her face falters, she quickly recovers though. But I noticed. I frown, is there something wrong with me?

"Well Agent Lopez and Jacob shall we retreat to somewhere more private?" she asks her voice not as airy as it had been when she had first spoken with us. We both nod. And follow her as she gracefully walks to a door in the far corner of the restaurant.


	8. Chapter Seven

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone for the followers and reviews. It's awesome. Ya'll are awesome.

Special thanks to Runephoenix6769 and BetTheDuckIsInTheHat, ya'll are awesome.

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**Please Review**

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As I step through the door the whole atmosphere changes, the warmth of the bar dissipates into a cold sombre ambience, it kind of feels as though I have stepped into a medieval castle. The walls are made of a heavy stone; candles adorn the hallway in which we walk along, footsteps echoing. The floor seems to be made of stone but was lined with red carpet. As we pass each candle they flicker ever so slightly, giving me the creeps. That and the silence that permeates the air.

The feelings deep within me that happened when the Marquise and I shook hands are still there. And it's awful, I don't understand what happened. And to make matters worse the Marquise is ignoring me.

I'm unsure what it is that I expected when I thought about meeting the head of the council. I guess I somehow figured the person in charge would have been a guy. An Alpha Werewolf perhaps. I also expected them to be more inviting. Though she had been initially, all warmth seems to be retracted.

The Marquise is ignoring me and all I want is for her to turn around and look at me or talk to me. Did she feel whatever it was that happened before? Or was it just me? Why do I have this need within me now to garner her attention?

I have so many questions.

The Marquise leads us further down the hallway and pauses at a closed door that I swear seemingly appeared from nowhere. She pushes it open and motions us through with a theatrical wave of her arm. Jake gestures for me to walk through first; I walk through but keep my eyes trained on her. I was close enough I could hear her breathing.

We stood in an even narrower hallway. There was a door at either end, one showing the cold night through its glass window, the other closed, a question mark. The Marquise closed the door behind us, leaning on it. She seemed to collapse against it, head hanging down, and hair spilling forward.

"Are you all right?" I ask, concerned.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at me. I gasped. I couldn't help myself. She was so ridiculously gorgeous. Her cheekbones were high and sculpted. Her eyes were cat like and the deepest of blues; I'd never seen someone so beautiful. She's intoxicating to look at.

"I am fine Agent Lopez, Thank you for your concern." She shakes whatever it is that has affected her off and marches forward, brushing past me. I look to Jake with questioning eyes; he shrugs his shoulders at me and follows behind the Marquise. I stare after them. I've never been so confused in my life.

We walk in silence, as we make our way to the closed door. The Marquise opens it again and I catch my first glimpse of where this door leads.

Down Stairs.

I feel like I've been placed in a time machine as I step through the door and onto the staircase. This medieval décor the council has implemented isn't warm and inviting. The stair case is one that you would definitely see in a medieval castle, the kind that I imagine adorns forests in Northern Europe. As we make our way down the stairs, the air begins to get thicker and colder. I can hear the murmur of other beings as we make our way further underground.

"Who will be present at the meeting?" I ask quietly as we wound our way down the stairs

"It matters not to you at this moment." The Marquise replies, her lips pursed, as though she'd tasted something sour. At this Jake clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. I frown.

"Will Noah be present? I thought he was coming with us?" I ask and she shrugs her shoulders at me as she stalks down the stairs towards another closed door. Her walk is a gliding, graceful movement like a ballerina. She knocks upon the wooden door and just stands there, arms crossed over her stomach, cradling her breasts, not looking at us. I was beginning not to like The Marquise's attitude.

The door slowly opens and I'm automatically hit with bright light. We step through the threshold and I take in the room I've just entered. It was a banquet hall with cloth-covered tables grouped in a horseshoe. A stage with four chairs either side of a larger throne like one closed the mouth of the horseshoe. Four people stood on the platform in front of each of the chairs.

The more imposing one was Noah. I am unsure as to how he got here so fast without passing us.

The person standing next to Noah was undeniably handsome. He was at least six feet tall, Asian, and though not terrifying to look at you could see the muscles rippling underneath his clothes. His hair was black and cut short. He stood with one hand gripping his opposite wrist. A bodyguard pose. He wore a pair of tight black jeans, high top brightly coloured Jordan's, a short sleeved checker top with a vest on top. What is it with these people and vests? His eyes bore hole into me, but it wasn't of the intimidating kind. His eyes were kind.

The other man was shorter. His hair is brown, short but styled and blow-dried. every single piece perfectly styled in the same manner. His face was clean-shaven; square jawed, with a slight dimple in his chin. The dimple should have made the face look fun, but it didn't. It was a face for rules. Those thin lips were built for saying, my way or else. He wore a pastel linen suit jacket over black pants. A pale blue turtleneck that matched the jacket to perfection completed the outfit. His shoes were black and polished to a shine.

Next to the well-dressed man was a small woman, caramel skinned and petite. People called me small but I was a giant compared to this woman. I could spot what she is from a mile away without having to focus. I could smell the earthly scent; see her need to be with nature. The small woman was clearly a wood-nymph

"Mike." The Marquise whispered quietly. Bringing me out of my thoughts as she continues up to the stage to sit on the throne like chair in the middle.

Mike stepped-leaped off the stage. It was a graceful, dancer like, bounding movement. He moved in a cloud of his own vitality. It rolled and boiled around him almost like heat rising off pavement. You couldn't see it with the naked eye, but you could sure as hell feel it.

Mike came at me as though he had a purpose. I put my back to the wall, keeping The Marquise in sight, along with everybody else. Jake moved back with me. He stood a little away from all of us, but closer to me than anyone. I pull my jacket zip down so my necklace can be seen clearly, making sure I use my right hand to pull the zipper to show my silver rings.

"Your intentions better be friendly, Mike." I smile at him sweetly. He pauses and steps back.

"Mike," the nameless man said. One word, even the tone sounded the same, but this time stopped in his tracks. He stood, staring at me. His eyes were still calm. People usually dislike me on sight. Once they sense what I am. But his eyes remained pleasant; his movements though graceful suggested something else. I am conflicted as to how I feel about him.

"We have not offered you violence, Agent Lopez," the nameless man states in a flush.

"That may be, but as I have never met any of you before I want to know what his intentions are before he comes closer. There are hostilities within this room directed towards me and I would rather not be accosted in this way." The Marquise smiles and looks at me as if I'd done something hilariously interesting.

"A very apt description, Agent Lopez. You can see our auras, then?"

"Uh, sure, If that's what you want to call it," I said.

"Mike's intentions are not hostile. He will merely search you for weapons. It is standard procedure for an outsider. It is nothing personal, I assure you." The very fact that they didn't want me armed made me want to keep my weapons. Stubbornness or a strong survival instinct.

"If you wanted to search me all you had to do was ask, approaching me in this manner was highly unnecessary." I reply staring straight into The Marquises eyes.

"Would you have co-operated?"

"Probably not."

"Well then, Mike." She says with a stern voice. I just stood there. I didn't put my arms out. I didn't lean against the wall. I wasn't going to help him, not unless he asked He patted down my arms, legs, even the small of my back. He didn't pat down the front centre of my body. Maybe he was being a gentleman, or maybe he was just careless. Whatever, He didn't find anything other than my silver jewellery which he let me keep on me. The night was looking up

Once Mike was done, he returned back to the stage and took his seat next to the Marquise. The other three also took a seat and an awkward silence took over. I could feel myself being scrutinized by every single creature up there.

I started wondering what other beings were here asides the vampire, the fairy and the nymph. I don't close my eyes this time as I put my focus out and feel the life forces of each of the beings sitting in front of me. Mike seems to be an Alpha wolf. The pixie faced, immaculate dressed man was not a pixie but an elf.

No wonder I had sensed such a strong magical presence earlier.

"My friends, I have asked you here tonight to meet Special Agent Santana Lopez. She is here to investigate the murders that have been taking place." The Marquise states simply. I am taken back though, by the fact she calls me special agent. Nobody ever uses that title in its entirety.

"We don't need a human to help us." This from the nymph girl. She was looking down her unbelievably large nose at me with a look of utmost distaste

"We are all human here, Rachel, don't think of yourself as special. And the special agent isn't just a human." The Marquise replies simply. Rachel glares at The Marquise with distaste then crosses her arms and legs. I swear I heard her humph whilst she did so.

"Special Agent, please ignore the rudeness of Rachel, and let me introduce you to the senior members of the council, I am the head obviously, and to my left you have Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel." She gestures to them Rachel does not move a muscle but continues to glare. Whereas Kurt waves his hand to me in a fabulously gay way. A giant smile is plastered upon his face and he seems like the most enthusiastic person in the world.

"And to my right you have Alpha Michael Chang and Prince Noah Puckerman, whom I believe you have met." Noah smiles at me and raises his glass that he's drinking from. Mike also smiles at me, I am unsure of him. I nod to them all to acknowledge them and then focus back on the Marquise

"Shall we get straight to business?" The marquise asks and I nod in anticipation.

"What did you think of what you have seen thus far Special Agent?" The marquises voice is cold and clinical

"I honestly think it's a wolf."

"A wolf? Do you not think if it were a wolf I would be aware of it?" Mike asks and I realise it's the first time I've heard his voice. He sounds offended.

"Well, it's something big and I think its canine owing to the precision of the wounds. It isn't small enough to be a standard dog. And I know you have been looking for a rogue"

"How did you know?"

"Jake told me some of your pups saw one and when you went to find it and track it you lost it's scent. I would place my livelihood on the fact that these murders are because of that rogue."

"Do you think it is lycanthropy or a shifter?"

"I don't know. Why would a shifter kill someone if they are supposed to be a guardian?" He leaned back in his chair. It squeaked under his weight.

"I think Agent Lopez that is a question in which we have all been considering since the first body was found." Kurt replies pleasantly

"The police were all over the area where the body was found today. Sheriff Schuester said they didn't find anything, no footprints, no hairs nothing. Just the body." Jake speaks for the first time

"So what do you want from us?" The Marquise asks

"I want to open the communication between the police, the council and the pack. If we can do this and be co-operative, we might be able to solve this case." I state, there really wasn't anything to it when you think about it.

"It's not our call, Agent. We suffer greatly when it comes to the Lima Police Department. They refuse us any help what so ever. And though they are supposed to consult with us on things like this, they never do. That is why we are lucky to have Jacob."

"And on top of that, not everybody within my pack is willing to cooperate with people outside of the pack." Mike adds

"But if you are alpha, can you not ask them to do so?" I question

"That's not how I work Agent. My pack has the freedom to be the people they want to be as long as they follow the pack rules. I will never ask my pack to do something they were against. Remember these people are everyday citizens that would prefer to keep their lycanthropy under wraps."

"Not as long as William Schuester is alive." Rachel adds snarkily and I look up at her, eyebrow raised.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Schuester has no interest in helping the paranatural princess. He's made it very clear he would rather we went somewhere else to be as he coined it "Freaks"." Noah answers seriously. I frown.

"What do you know about Schuester?" I ask thinking about him.

"Not a lot, he just appeared in Lima one day and it didn't take long for him to become Sheriff." Kurt's delicate voice answers. I frown and look up to the marquise and see her staring back at me intently.

I stood in silence for a moment.

"Will you help me if I need it with the investigation?" I ask shyly, I absolutely hate rejection.

"Yes." The marquise states simply. I look to the others and they are nodding. I look at Mike in particular and he nods with a smile.

"I will also talk to my pack and give any information I can. I will see if the pup's parents will let you talk to them too. I think it may help that you are one of us."

"Thank you." I reply and smile. Then I turn to Jake

"Shall we go?"

"Yes."

"No." The marquise voice rang out sternly. And I look to her frowning

"Jake, you are to stay here with Noah and help him inform the tier of the Agents presence and to see if there have been any sightings. I shall escort Special Agent home."

I look back at Jake and he has a frown on his face as well, he seems more confused than I am.

"Yes Marquise." He replies and makes his way over to Noah. I was tired. Tired enough to go home and crawl into bed and hide. Instead, I was going to spend a half hour car ride with a vampire that doesn't seem to like me.

Yay.


	9. Chapter Eight

**A/N:** Quick update because I got into the groove earlier. Some Brittana interaction and more confusion :)

Thank you all for the reviews, follows and favourites. Seriously it's awesome. I appreciate every single one.

If you have any questions and stuff hit me up on tumblr; Reverenceforfallentrees.

Also, look out for something super cool next chapter. ;)

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The walk to the car from the basement of Pyramus and Thisbe is long and sinuous. Since dismissing the council the Marquise has yet to talk to me in anything but gestures, opening doors for me, beckoning me forward with her hand or a nod of her head. This is not the behaviour one would imagine to be becoming of a Marquise.

As I walk beside her down a long corridor I look across and analyse her face more closely. Her jaw is clenched, in a way that I perhaps should be scared of. The type of manner in which one gets before they lash out violently. As if she's trying to contain herself from something.

Something to do with me.

I'm still trying to figure out what I had done to offend her. If I think about the whole evening in which I have had contact with her, I don't think I've been overtly offensive. I've been courteous and appreciative of the council and the way they have been willing to help me and the investigation.

The only conclusion I can draw is that the Marquise, the high and mighty vampire that she appears to be, is anti me because I am a necromancer. Do I scare her? Does it worry her that my area of expertise is with the dead? Does she think I possess the power to control her or something?

This bitch is so frustrating.

I run through the whole evening again in my head, we met and she was pleasant, upbeat. Excited to see Jake. She looked so beautiful in her excitement, when she shook my hand everything changed. A dark cloud pulled over us and I felt a million different things, she turned cold. Then throughout the meeting she was straight to the point. No idle chitchat.

And then she offered me a ride home because Jake had to go do some important work for her.

I honestly don't know what's happening, but I am determined to break her shell. Figure out what the fuck is going on here. If her attitude doesn't change I'm going to have to rely upon more drastic tactics to figure her out.

"Thank you for offering to take me home, I could have gotten a taxi." I try to coerce a response from her. She looks at me sideways and just shrugs. I sigh. Once we are in the car, I'm going to figure her out. I hate using my powers on people but, this is just beyond ridiculous.

We reach the end of the corridor and the Marquise opens the door, gesturing for me to go through first, I step through the door and notice that we had made it to the garage. There was only one car in here, a black BMW 4 series with tinted windows. I take a moment to take in the car, it's the newest on the market. How had she managed to get a hold of it? Wait, dumb question. Old vampire equates to money.

The beep beep of the car unlocking brings me out of my revere and I watch as the Marquise swiftly makes her way to the driver's door and I force myself to move to the passenger's door. I climb in and take in the interior, black. Flash. Impressive. The extravagance of the car suites the Marquise.

Pretentious.

We make our way out of the garage in silence. It's a heavy uncomfortable cloak, which I don't really want to wear. I look at her again her focus is solely upon the road ahead of us, it's then I decide I need to do this for my own sanity. I turn my head away from her and close my eyes and take in a deep breath.

And then I feel it

Everything

The woman, the vampire, the child, the lover, the hater, the monster, the beguiled, the dreamer and the lost soul.

I reach out further to learn more about her. At this moment I wish I could read her thoughts, I wish I had some sort of ability in the divination area.

I then hit gold.

441

The Marquise is 441 years old. European, not English, something further north? Swedish perhaps? And then I feel something else, regality. The Marquise was a Royal? But Noah said that he; Jake and Sarah were the only royals within the council. I frown. She was definitely a royal at some stage. I wonder how she became a Marquise, because she isn't English and her bloodline ranks higher than a Marquise. I take a deep breath and see if I can go deeper, I bite my lip in concentration.

"STOP IT" the marquise yells at me. Breaking my concentration.

"Stop what?"

"I can feel what you are doing Agent Lopez and I would prefer it if you did not use your powers upon me, as I have not done so to you."

"I wouldn't exactly call it powers, I can just read people."

"You are more powerful than you know Agent Lopez. And I would recommend you are careful on whom you use your little "reading" skill on. Most people wouldn't give you a warning not to"

"I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

We fall into a silence again and I stare out the window, watching the trees as we pass. I notice that the Marquise has driven a different way to that in which we came. I frown slightly, but I refuse to ask the Marquise where we are going. I don't exactly feel comfortable in her presence and I don't want to agitate her further.

After a few more minutes the Marquise pulls into a lookout kind of area, it is an ominous place, dark, with low visibility. I can feel my heart start to race and I take in a deep breath. The marquise pulls up and turns the lights of the car, but keeps the engine running. Thank god, it's too cold to be without heat. She turns to me with a look upon her face that I can't read, but I look up into her eyes and hold her gaze, she's not going to intimidate me. And if she is going to attempt to turn me right now she's going to have a fight upon her hands.

"Isabella." The marquise breathes out, her hand reaches up and traces my face, her face looks at peace for a moment then turns into a twisted look of hatred. I pull back in fright without thinking. I hold her gaze but can't find my voice to tell her that I am not this Isabella.

"What are you doing here Isabella? How did you find me?"

"wha-wh-what?" I reply

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here. Bella." The marquise spits in hate

"I'm not Bella." I reply with a frown upon my face.

"Don't lie to me Isabella. "

"I'm not Isabella, I'm not lying. My Name is Santana. Marquise, I think you have me confused with someone else." I watch as she curls back into herself in disbelief.

"Pensé que eras tú Isabella, ¿cómo he llegado tan mal?" she looks up at the roof and whispers to herself. The silence after this action is thick. Making it hard to breathe. The silence is awful, it had been awful during all the other silences, but this is vastly different.

I bite my lip and watch her carefully; she doesn't move she just stares up at the roof looking for answers to a question that I can't answer. Do I say something? My abuela's name was Isabella, Isabella is a family name. It's my middle name; it's my mother's middle name. Do I throw that out there? Did The Marquise know my Abuela? Or my abuela's Abuela, or my abuela's, abuela's, Abuela?

"Who is Isabella?" I ask quietly and carefully. Not wanting to piss of the already upset and volatile vampire. She looks back at me, and I swear if she could, she would be crying. Her cerulean eyes were swimming in hurt. Strangely my heart ached for her. Like she somehow transplanted her pain into me.

"It matters not." She replies softly, looking utterly defeated. I consider her answer for and decide to press her further. Perhaps coerce the information out of her.

"My full name is Santana Isabella Lopez. Isabella is a family name; every eldest daughter has Isabella in their name. It's been that way for centuries." I state simply. At this information the Marquise looks up to me.

"Isabella is a pretty name." she whispers and then let out a breath she seemed to be holding.

"Yeah, my family believes it's important to uphold the traditions of my Spanish roots."

"Your family is from Spain?"

"Yes, my mother's family is from Spain, my father's family is from Mexico."

"What part of Spain is your family from?"

"Valencia. My family has been there for generations, my Abuela was the first in her family to leave Spain, asides from those who fought in wars."

"You have strong ties to Spain then." It wasn't a question but I nod my head anyway.

"I'm from Europe."

"I know, I felt your ties. You are a royal?"

"I don't want to talk about it Agent Lopez."

"You can call me Santana."

"Thank you for allowing me the privilege Santana."

"It's okay. Are you okay? You seem upset."

"I have lived for many, many years Santana, in many, many different places. I have seen things, I have met people, and I have been involved with many different events. Conflicts. Sometimes, my past mingles with the present and it confuses me at times."

I frown; I'm not sure what she means by this. I don't know if I should talk or if I should just let her continue. Before I can make a decision she takes the choice from me.

"My name is Komtessa Brittany Susan Saskia Pierce of Nassau, my father was Willem de Zwijge." She states emotionlessly. I had no idea who these people were but I was storing the information in my head to Wikipedia later. Though, I do know a Komtessa would mean she is Dutch.

"So you are Dutch?" I ask and she nods her head.

"I have not been back since 1782 when I left that part of my life behind for good. I ask you not to reveal this information to anybody else. Nobody knows of my original titles and I prefer if it would remain that way."

"Of course Marquise."

"Please when we are alone together, call me Brittany. Marquise is my husband's title; I only have kept it because people expect someone of my power and authority to have a title. And I'm not okay with using my birth title."

"You are married?"

"I was, at a time when things were difficult within England. My husband was killed in battle."

"I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault. You were not the one who took his life Santana. Over time we learn to deal with our sorrow, and within a century it becomes a memory. And he was an atrocious man. He is not missed."

I don't know what to say to this, by this titbit it sounds like she was married to a man whom she didn't necessarily want to be married to. I can't imagine myself to ever be in that sort of situation.

"Who was Isabella? Why do you think I am her?"

"Isabella is someone from my distant past who looks like you. It was a simple mistake that is all." She dismisses me completely. And I think about it for a moment. Maybe I shouldn't press her about her past any further. But I do have something else pressing upon my mind which I am hoping she can give me answers to.

"What happened in the bar?"

"What do you mean Santana?"

"Something happened between us, it was a fire or something. An electrical current. I don't know. But I know that you felt it too, because your demeanour towards me changed."

"No it didn't"

"It did."

"Santana..."

"No, don't fob my question off because you feel uncomfortable. You've made me feel uncomfortable all night and now I want some answers. Something happened back at Pyramus and Thisbe and I want to know what it was. I know it wasn't Noah using his charms upon me because I can feel them and am resistant to them. So I want you to tell me, what the hell happened."

She looked at me, scanning me up and down then places her hands on the steering wheel and turns the lights back on, with a small look back towards me with her jaw clenched she seems to be contemplating what I said.

"I think it's time I took you home."

"Brittany..."

"Marquise." She retorts cold towards me again. I sigh loudly and thump my head gently against the glass of the window.

"Sorry Marquise." I murmur angrily. This back and forth game that she is playing is draining. I hear her sigh as well and feel the car begin to move. Instead of looking at her I keep my eyes out the window, watching as we pass houses of various kinds, trees and industrial buildings.

The roads were quiet as we drove, I look at the clock upon the dash and realise it's already 2am; the marquise would need to feed before dawn. I suddenly felt guilty for wasting here time. Her day. No, why should I feel bad. She should feel bad for playing this ping pong game with me. I want to slap her and demand answers, but a slap from me unless with a silver hand won't cause her any pain.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket; I glance down and see Rico is calling me. I sigh again, how hard is it for a grown man to go to the supermarket and get some food. Even if that was too much of a difficult task for him, he could have had some food delivered. I ignore his call and briefly glance at the marquise; I see her eyes dart away from me.

That awkward interaction. She doesn't want me to know I saw her and vice versa.

My phone buzzes again and I look towards it, its Rico again. I growl audibly and the vampire next to me glances towards me. I turn away and direct my full attention out the window.

Within minutes my phone buzzes again, this time I'm so angry I answer

"Rico, I can't talk I'm busy right now."

"S-s-san."

"No Rico, I'll be home soon. I'll get your food. Just stop calling me." I hang up as soon as I'm done and shove my phone back into my pocket.

"Are you okay?" the marquise asks me and I roll my eyes.

"I'm fine."

She looks at me for a period of time and I really wish she would drive with her eyes on the road rather than on me. My pocket begins to vibrate again and I growl again ignoring it.

The marquise indicates to turn on to the road where my apartment building is. The silence becomes humid. And I start finding it difficult to breathe. As she pulls into the parking lot of the building I check to make sure I have all of my things. She puts the car onto park and I reach across and unbuckle my seat belt. As it retracts I feel a cold hand slid over mine and I look up into the blue eyes that had a tint of red starting to overtake them.

The Marquise hasn't fed.

I hold her stare and try to move my hand but she grips onto it tightly. All the magic in the world can't match a vampire's strength. But then I feel it all again. My senses are heightened to levels beyond imaginable and I can definitely taste her in the air, so sweet. No iron this time. But owing to her hunger I would expect that. Her hand so soft. I can see every little freckle that dusts her face. I can see her eyes slowly start to change colour. I see the halo. She smells of bubble-gum. The butterflies start to swarm in my stomach and I want her. She's so intoxicating.

When she holds my hand I feel at peace, something I'd never felt before.

I look into her eyes and she smiles slightly. Her eyes, her eyes are a magnet to me. I can't stop looking into them and I feel a pull. I lean forward slightly. I want to taste her. I want every part of her. She leans in towards me too and we are so close, I can feel her breathe on me. I close my eyes preparing for our lips to touch, instead I feel her cheek rest upon my own and her lips settle beside my ear. Her breath hitches

"I feel it too Santana." She whispers, then let's go of my hand and moves back into her seat facing away from me.

I am speechless. My ability to speak has been robbed.

"Until we meet again Agent Lopez." She states simply and gestures for me to leave the car. Instead of saying anything to her, I just shake my head, open the door and climb out. I look at her one last time before I close the door and just shake my head.

"Thank you" is all I say as I close it at walk away from her.

As I reach the door of my building I take a last glance back at her and see she has already reversed out of the park and is making her way out of the parking lot. I sigh.

Turning back to the building I reach for the door and make my way inside. I honestly can't wait to shower and then get into bed so I can sleep for a decent period of time.

I walk through the hallway making my way to my door, thinking about the amazing hot shower I'm about to have and the sleep that is going to make me feel like a million bucks. I hope Rico honestly doesn't want me to cook for him. I just can't do that. He can do it, he's an adult. Mami taught us how to cook very well. So I don't see what his problem would be.

I grab my keys and place them into the lock and with a click and a turn of the door handle I open it, throwing my keys onto the table near the door. I expected Rico to greet me at the door, but maybe he's asleep, it is late.

I make my way into the lounge and gasp in horror at the sight before me. Then quickly run towards it

"Rico?"


	10. Chapter Nine

**A/N: Woah! Crazy response to the last chapter. I'm glad you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to you all again for being rockstars with your reviews, follows and favourites.**

**Also, I'm so glad you guys are receiving Rico so well. He's an important aspect of this story and I know how frustrating new characters can be. ****For those who asked, Rico is Santana's older brother.**

**Thank you to Runephoenix6769 for, well, read and see. :)**

**Any questions? Just ask, I'm happy to talk out any confusion and the likes.**

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**Please Review**

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It's crazy how in a matter of moments you can go from everything being so ridiculously mundane and monotonous to everything being so fucking dramatic it feels as though you are living within a season finale of Grey's Anatomy.

Four days ago, I was in Virginia teaching new agents and trying to find suitable candidates for the Paranatural Crime Investigation. Today I've investigated a crime scene, met a fairy Prince, consulted with The Ohio Council and met the most infuriating vampire I've ever encountered.

And now, I've come home to this.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as I kneel down beside Rico; my brother lay in front of me, deathly pale, his clothes ripped, covered in some sort of slime. I couldn't see exactly what was wrong with him but I didn't want to touch him, in case there was some sort of lingering magic.

I have no other choice; I have to call for help. But there is only one person I can call, one person who would understand. I quickly scramble for my phone; unlocking it I scroll down to find her number then put it to my ear.

But it didn't ring.

"_You've reached the voicemail of Doctor Quinn Fabray, I can't answer your call right now but if you leave your name and number I will call you back as soon as I am able."_

It went straight to voicemail. Fuck. I hang up the phone quickly and scroll through to her work number and press call again. This time it rings.

And it rings

And it rings

I start to get really impatient, listening to the ringing of the phone and watching the colour drain so slowly from my brother's face. He looks so peaceful. I want to touch him and help him, but I know that I can't.

"Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Centre, you're talking with Christina, how may I help you?"

"Hi, can I please speak with Doctor Quinn Fabray? It's an emergency."

"If it is an emergency I recommend hanging up and dialling 911."

"No, you don't understand this is pertaining to Quinn specifically."

"One moment please."

I'm put on hold. The on hold music, isn't on an elevator music level, it's cheerful. And it's making me angry. Come on, come on, come on.

"Are you there?"

"Yes"

"Doctor Fabray is in the Quarantine area at this moment and isn't able to talk via phone, would you like to leave a message for her?" I groan audibly.

"Look, I need to talk to her right now, it's a family emergency."

"I appreciate that whatever it is that is urgently happening with your family is important, but Doctor Fabray is unable to come to the phone right now."

"Look, bitch, I'm calling because someone within Quinn's family needs her help, it's a FABRAY FAMILY EMERGENCY. Tell Quinn that Santana needs to speak with her right now." I growl, the woman at the other end of the phone tsks and it grates my anger further.

"One moment please."

I am placed on hold again, and I take in several breathes to try and calm myself down. I need to start figuring out what's wrong with Rico. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, trying to figure out his aura, but I hit a wall. I literally hit a wall. Something's caused his aura to disappear.

"San? What's wrong?" Quinn's voice pulls me from my shock

"Rico, he's here and he's hurt Quinn I don't know what's wrong with him" I whine like a panicked little kid. I hear Quinn take in a sharp breathe when I mentioned Rico's name, but she quickly shakes it off and snaps into doctor Fabray mode.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's deathly pale, covered in slime and his clothes are all torn. He's still breathing just but he has no aura Quinn. "

"Is his soul still intact?" she asks and I close my eyes and search.

"It's losing brightness ."

"You need to find someone there who can help him, I can't help from here Santana, but I'm leaving work now to come and help."

"I don't know who to call Quinn"

"Have you met the council yet? Call one of them anyone, they should help you. If it helps throw my name out there. You may be a well-known Necromancer San, but I'm a well-known paranatural doctor. It may help you more."

"Okay."

"I'll be there in a few hours, stay calm San. I love you."

"Love you too."

I quickly hang up my phone and think about the council, who am I going to call within the council that would help me? Fuck it, I'll just call Jake.

I bring up his name and press call

"Agent Lopez, what's going on?"

"I need a doctor" I sniff; emotions are starting to take over "I need someone specialising in curses or something. Something is wrong with my brother."

"Okay, I'll call The Marquise and sort something out, are you at your apartment?"

"Yes, please Jake. Hurry, I don't know what's wrong with him."

"It'll be okay Santana."

Everything feels so out of control, I put the phone on the floor and sit next to Rico my head in my hands, trying my hardest not to cry. I find it so hard to contain emotions when I am not in control of a situation. People call me a control freak. I guess in a way I am. But if I'm not in control, I'm left to deal with such a vast range of emotions. Of memories. Memories that I don't want to remember.

I just want to reach out and touch Rico's hand. To tell him everything is going to be okay, but how can you reassure someone when you yourself aren't able to believe in it. If I lose Rico, I've lost everyone.

My parents died, in a freak accident that wasn't so freak, but it's what you say when you can't really explain it to people. My Abuela and Abuelo are dead. I have no other brothers or sisters. My parents are only children. I have Quinn and the Fabray's, but that wasn't enough. I need my family. I need my brother.

After my powers were discovered and witnessed by everyone in the church, it didn't take long for Rico's powers to manifest themselves as well. Like a chain reaction. Until that point, my older brother was the charming, boof head, he was kind and loving. He cared about everything from the smallest insect to the largest elephant. That is, until his powers began to show. It's difficult to remain so positive when you can read everybody's aura; their intentions are never generally gracious.

My parents were killed, in a not so kind manner by a vampire. Who spoke of things that were untrue, accusing them of bringing two monsters into the world. But how can one monster accuse two humans of bringing two monsters into the world? I'd never understood that rational.

I look back at Rico and my heart sinks. I can't sit here and watch my brother die. I can't be witness to it. I slowly reach my hand out to take his in mine when there is a sharp knock on my door, I turn and get up of the floor running to it. I open it and see Noah, Kurt and Brittany standing there.

"Agent Lopez, where is he?" the pixie stated and I look and see he is carrying a bag, that I assumed was filled with medical tools. I pointed to the next room and he and Noah move in swiftly, I take a deep breath and look up at the Marquise, she is staring at me, her eyes are kind, looking at me. Her eyes are back to their cerulean blue, she's eaten.

I gesture for her to come in and she shakes her head.

"I must be formally invited in. I cannot cross the threshold like the others."

"Marquise, you are welcome into my home." I state and she glides in gracefully. I close the door behind her and turn to make my way into the lounge, but the Marquise is blocking my way.

"Rico, that is your brother's name yes?" I nod slowly

"He is Rico Lopez bounty hunter? Known as the executioner?" I sigh and nod again.

"You should have told me."

"Why."

"It's important for me to know who is within my state. I would have granted him permission as long as whom he is searching for wasn't under my council, or if they were, had done something to warrant a visit from the executioner."

"Is this the time to be having this discussion Marquise?"

"No, I suppose it is not. We should go and assist Kurt and Noah."

We both make our way into the lounge and I see Kurt and Noah talking in hushed voices, Noah catches my eye and nods at me as I move to be near Rico.

"I've assessed him, it appears he's had an encounter with a particularly nasty ghoul. It won't kill him but he needs specific treatment that I am incapable of, I can make sure the ghoul slime doesn't infect him further until I can track down someone who has the abilities and remedies to deal with it. But, ghouls aren't my specialty. Encounters with them are rare." He frowns at me, with a questioning look upon his face. Damnit Rico what have you gotten yourself into.

"I have someone coming who can help him if you can keep him alive until she comes." I reply, voice hoarse. Kurt nods to me and moves to work on Rico. I watch him carefully.

I feel a presence next to me and I look beside me to see the marquise looking at me intently

"Agent Lopez, perhaps it's best if you try and get some rest." She says quietly

"Yeah, princesa, you look like shit." Noah's voice booms loudly

"Despite Noah's lack of manners and sensitivity, he is right." The marquise glares at Noah and he shrinks back

"I don't want to leave him alone." I say quietly

"There is nothing you can do to help, except call your contact and make sure they are equipped with the appropriate tools."

"I just wanna stay with him."

"Do you not trust us?" The Marquise asks

"I am not sure." I say honestly.

"At least she's being honest ." Kurt calls from beside Rico

"You need to sleep though Santana. You are exhausted."

"I can give you a sedative, and you could sleep upon the couch if you'd like?" Kurt asks. I shrug, I'm not sure if I should sleep. Or if it's safe enough for me to do so.

"Well, I need to be heading back to Pyramus and Thisbe, will you boys be okay here?" the marquise asks and the boys nod.

"Will you be okay Santana?"

I look at her taken a back and then nod. She smiles at me softly then makes her way to the entrance.

"I shall see myself out, Santana please go to bed and get some rest, you being tired will not help in these matters. Kurt, Noah, do what must be done. I shall see you all later."

"Bye" I whisper as I watch her leave.

"Agent Lopez, could you please call your contact?" Kurt asks.

"Sure, and Kurt, please call me Santana."

"Okay Santana."

I reach for my phone and then walk into my room closing my door, I'm not sure if I should trust the fairy prince or the pixie, but the reality of things is that I don't have a choice. I hit dial and wait for Quinn to answer.

"San, is everything okay?

"Quinn, I have a pixie doctor here, he said he can keep Rico stable until you arrive but he was attacked by a ghoul. So you need to bring the right instruments for it?"

"A ghoul? What is he doing chasing after ghouls?"

"I honestly don't know Q."

"I'm on the next flight out, I'll be there in a few hours. If you trust the pixie doctor enough, you should try and get some sleep. You sound terrible"

"Thanks Q."

"San, just stay calm, Rico has survived worse than a ghoul attack."

"Don't remind me"

"They are calling my flight I gotta go San. Go to sleep."

"I'll try."

"Bye San."

"Cya Q."

I make my way out into the lounge and sit on the couch, Kurt is doing something strange with his hands. I watch him carefully. His hands move with a purpose, his brow concentrated. Once his movements stop, he looks up to me

"Quinn will be here in the morning." I say quietly, unsure if I'm supposed to talk yet or not. He just nods to me and then goes to his bag and digs through. He nods towards Noah, unspoken communication, Noah makes his way into the kitchen, bringing out a bottle of water. Kurt moves swiftly beside me and hands me a pill.

"It's just a small dose of compacted dust, you need to relax and get some sleep. This stress isn't good for you."

"I don't wanna take anything."

"Santana, please don't push me with this. You need to sleep otherwise we will all have to deal with consequences."

"What does that mean?"

"I am not supposed to tell you, but you need to talk to the marquise about it."

I sigh and nod, rolling the small multi-coloured pill in my hand. I put my hand to my mouth and toss it back, taking a sip of water too. I lie down upon the couch and Noah makes his way into my room, I don't know why, but once he comes out I see that he's retrieved a pillow and blanket for me. How kind.

He throws the blanket over me and hands me the pillow. I make myself comfortable and keep my eyes open. Willing myself to stay awake.

But I can't fight the pull for long.

I fade in and out of consciousness, sleep disturbed by loud and obtrusive voices. They were talking in hushed voices, but they seemed so loud.

"Someone should wake her." A female voice states cautiously

"I don't wanna wake her, you wake her." Another male voice retorts

"She hates me, I'm not going in there." The another male voice

"Apparently, I'm not allowed to move, so one of you has to do it."

"Pixie boy go."

"Shouldn't the good doctor wake her?

"Ahaha, no. No way. Nope. I don't have a death wish" I know that voice, so very, very well. I open my eyes and look over to the small congregation that had gathered in my lounge.

"Would you guys talk a bit louder, I don't think they heard you in New Zealand." I growl as I sit up and rub at my eyes. They all turn to me and I smile widely, seeing Rico sitting up and look remarkably healthy considering how I recall the last time I saw him.

"Good morning Agent Lopez, I assume the dust was helpful?"

"Obviously." I retort and Quinn snickers and moves towards the kitchen

"I'll make some Coffee."

"Thanks Q." I say, my voice hoarse, I clear my throat and glance around staring at Rico. He lowers his eyes from me and rubs the back of his neck looking down. His eyes unable to meet mine.

"Agent Lopez, It's good to see that you are looking far better. Now that you are awake and you don't seem to be suffering any side effects from the dust, Noah and I shall be leaving. But I assume we will see you again in a relatively short period of time." I look at the Pixie man and nod at him sleepily. I remove the blanket from my body and stand up, stretching. And make my way towards the group on the other side of the room.

"Thank you Kurt and Noah, I don't know what would have happened to him if it wasn't for you. I owe you both so much."

"It was no problem Agent."

"Please call me Santana."

"Santana. We merely looked out for him until your lovely doctor arrived. I would love to learn some more from her before she leaves back to Richmond."

"I will try and arrange something for you Kurt."

"I'd love to get to know her more too." Noah replies

"Of course you would. And of course, you won't." I reply rolling my eyes at the predictable fairy prince. He chuckles at me and I flip him off. Rico growls beside him looking at him as if he wants to murder Noah. Noah raises his hands in surrender and an awkward tension suddenly fills the room.

"Right, well Noah and I shall be off. We will meet again soon I hope" Kurt says smiling

"I'll see you out."

"Thank you Kurt for everything you did." Rico smiles at him. I can sense a genuine kinship between the two forming. I smile, Rico is terrible at making friends. It would be good if he had some. And Kurt is a good guy. Rico turns to Noah and just nods at him.

I walk them out saying goodbye to each of them and they both walk down the hallway, I hear Kurt's dulcet tones and as I close the door I see him turn around and head back towards my apartment, frowning I open my door. And look at him questioningly. He stands in front of me and his aura turns to one of being frightened. I turn my head to the side questioningly and he clears his throat

"I shouldn't be saying this, I shouldn't. But you need to talk to the Marquise about your power. You need to learn your capabilities. And she is the one who you will learn the most from. We can only offer you so much."

"I don't understand?"

"If you don't discover the potential within you, something catastrophic will happen. I know you consider necromancy a talent, but you need to accept it for what it is. I can feel it and Noah can feel it. It is our job to be able to read power within a person. You have a great deal of magic within you Agent Lopez, you need to embrace it and educate yourself about it. As does your brother"

"I don't know what you mean Kurt. I understand my limitations and what I am completely thank you very much. " Slightly offend at what he is insinuating

"Just talk to the Marquise Agent Lopez. She knows more about you then you do." He states exasperatedly. And I stare at him eyes narrowed

"I've said to much." He says rushed and then turns around and leaves quickly. I watch him until he's out of sight and then close the door to the apartment, turning around I see Quinn. Standing there

"What was that about?" she asks

"I honestly don't know." I sigh I pinch the bridge of my nose and look at Quinn, standing there in all her glory. I smile. "I'm so fucking glad you are here Quinn." I say and she just smiles.

"Don't get all sentimental on me now Satan, we have someone waiting for us in the other room."

I smile and walk into the lounge and headed straight to Rico and smacked him on the head. I hear Quinn laugh beside me

"Oww, what was that for?" Rico whines

"What the fuck do you think it's for?! What the fuck were you doing hanging around ghouls?!"

"I wasn't hanging around ghouls! I swear."

"Really? Because your injuries suggest something different." Quinn spits, glaring at him

"I wasn't hanging around them, they just happened to be where I was?" he questions himself and I growl.

"What the fuck were you doing Rico?"

"It doesn't matter what I was doing Santana."

"Actually it does, when I get a phone call from a distressed Santana, telling me her brother, also known as the LOVE OF MY LIFE, is essentially dying and the cause seems to be because of ghouls, then yes it does matter RICO" Quinn spits and I look at her, I've never seen her so angry. Rico looks at her, sadness in his eyes. He hates when people are mad at him, he becomes a little puppy. The way they are staring at each other intently makes me feel like I should leave the room. Awkward sexual tension. If it had been any other time I would have made some sort of joke, but because of the situation I keep it to myself. Rico looks away from Quinn and sighs.

"I've been working with a Justice Keeper in Europe, trying to track down a lamia that has been taking the kids of diplomats."

"Wait I've heard about some of those cases. They are blaming the kidnapping on terrorists, even though no organisation has come out and said anything."

"Not a terrorist organisation, one lone Lamia. With a vendetta against government in general."

"What is the Lamia doing here?"

"I'm not sure, last night I got a call from Luce telling me that she had tracked the Lamia to around here. Then after she tipped me off I went looking for the bitch. I found her, she was hiding out within this cabin in a forest, when I arrived she smiled at me and then somehow summoned these ghouls. I honestly couldn't believe it. I've never met anybody who could summon ghouls. It was insane. And they slimed me and went through me, trying to possess me but they couldn't, I managed to resist them, then they disappeared and I managed to get here. I tried calling you both but you both didn't answer your phones and then I called Luce and she wasn't answering her phone either. I didn't know what to do and I don't remember anything else until I woke up to Quinn standing over me."

"Wait, a Lamia that can summon ghouls are you fucking kidding me right now?" I say at the same time Quinn says "who the fuck is Luce?"

I glare at her, I can't believe she's more focused on Rico hanging out with another girl than the fact there's a creature kidnapping peoples kids and potentially eating them that can also control ghouls. Seriously questioning her priorities right now.

I look to Rico and see pain in his eyes at the meaning behind Quinn's question. I shake my head, I will leave them to their moment as soon as I have answers.

"Rico, you need to talk to the Ohio council. The Marquise wants to meet you for a start, and also they need to know that there is a Lamia out there stealing people's kids. This can't end up reflecting badly upon them. They are trying to live as normal as they can and a Lamia is not normal by any means."

"Can you talk to them for me?"

"No, I can't. Kurt and Noah are going to inform The Marquise and the nymph that you've been attacked by ghouls as soon as they are able to. You have to go and talk to them."

"Okay, if you come with me. I don't trust them."

"Okay, I will. You know as soon as the ghouls attack someone else that I will have to get the FBI involved. You can't escape it this time Rico, you need to get help. You are amazing at what you do, but a Lamia is far different. It's beyond you. "

"I don't want you hurt again Ric, I can't keep saving you. I can't keep only seeing you when I save you. You say you love me then disappear until you need me again and I'm over it." Quinn says quietly. I look at her and realise what I have to say and what she has to say are both very important and perhaps it isn't the time for me to discuss things in regards to the potential shit show a Lamia could cause.

Quinn has things to say and she's been bottling them up for a long time. And I need to leave them to sort this out.

"I'll give you some privacy."

Rico stares at Quinn again, he looks in pain. I stand up and move towards my bedroom, I need a shower and then I need to go and talk to Mike and the wolves.

It's easy to forget I'm here to investigate a potential serial killer.


	11. Chapter Ten

**A/N; This chapter isn't my best, I got into a funk and wrote my way through it. But this is setting up next chapter which will include autopsies and more angry Brittany.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited. I'm really happy you are all enjoying this. And I hope you continue to.**

**Also, within this chapter are bits and pieces copied directly from Wikipedia. Just so you can kind of understand Santana's research process upon a specific matter. Thanks Wikipedia.**

**All mistakes are my own. I have no beta, so, blame me for the mistakes :)**

* * *

**Please Review**

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I enter through the doors of the Lima Police station and take a sip of my take away coffee that I'd got from a small café I had found on the way to the station called the Lima Bean. I take a moment to look around, this precinct isn't exactly what I was expecting, though I didn't have high hopes, this was below any hope. The walls were a dark sludge green in colour and it gave off a very unfriendly aura. As if it wasn't here to be reassuring to the victim but to merely drain the life force of the suspects.

And the people who work here.

I walk up to the front desk and am eyed suspiciously from over the top by none other than the royal asshole himself, Deputy Sam Evans. He stares at me intently as I slowly approach; I stare back at him, not giving into his obvious attempt at being intimidating. I take another sip of my coffee then smile at him in a very over the top and forced manner. I rest my arms on the counter and lean over it slightly continuing to hold his gaze.

"Hello deputy Evans, how are you this morning?"

"Agent Lopez." He grunts, with no intention of answering my question or being polite.

"Pleasure to see you too Evans! I have to say, your warm salutations really make me feel welcomed. "He glares at me with complete distaste but I ignore him "Is detective Puckerman in?" I ask him politely.

"I don't know or care." He says and I ignore his rudeness as he begins to dig through some papers searching for something, before placing a small piece of paper on the counter.

"Some lady called Shelby Cockram called you and was very demanding asking to speak with you." He mutters almost incomprehensibly

"Why didn't she just call my cell?" I ask myself and sigh. Looking back at Evans I see he's left the front desk of the station. I scoff and roll my eyes. Great, I don't know what I'm supposed to do now or where I am supposed to go.

The door of the station opens and I look over my shoulder and see Jake walk in, I sigh in relief and he smiles at me as he approaches.

"Good morning Agent Lopez, How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks Jake and you?"

"Same, how is your brother? Is he doing alright?" he looks at me genuinely concerned

"Yes, thank you so much for sending Kurt over last night, he is a miracle worker." I smile warmly at him

"Not so much a miracle worker, more a Medical Examiner."

"Wait, what?" I ask surprised, I hadn't really thought about how Kurt knew anything about Medicine, I guess I kind of just assumed it was a pixie thing, how naïve of me.

"Yeah, he's our Medical Examiner. So he's a doctor but not a doctor. But he's helpful when extraordinary things come up that the hospital and other doctors aren't equipped to deal with." He shrugs at me as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"That means I will also be working with him?" I ask kind of excited at the prospect of working with someone else that won't make this case any more difficult. Nor has an automatic hate for me.

"Yes."

"And the humans have no idea what so ever that you two are working within their presence?" I ask astonished at the stupidity.

"None what-so-ever."

"That's hilarious." I laugh. Kurt practically pukes pixie dust. How can they be so stupid?

"We'd prefer to keep it that way; we learn things easier this way. Schuester hates the council."

"I gathered that. Why?" I ask genuinely interested.

"I think he just hates anything to do with the paranatural. And on the down low, I think Brittany and Rachel terrify him."

"Rachel? The little nymph? He's terrified of her?"

"They've had some confrontations that have ended up in him feeling her wrath."

"That's even more hilarious." I laugh trying to picture what the wrath of the nymph could be.

"Yeah. Well, I guess I'll show you around and then set you up with a desk?"

"That would be fantastic, thank you so much Jake. Evans just told me the deputy director wants me to call her and left me here."

"Oh yeah, Evans is ridiculously helpful." Jake smiles and rolls his eyes. He moves to go behind the front counter and I follow him as he swipes his card to unlock the door.

"I'll set you up with a temporary card so you can access everything easier." He gestures for me to go through the door first and I walk through

"That would be good. I don't think I can rely on people like Evans to let me through to use your resources and the likes."

"Don't take it too personally, these guys have never had to work with the FBI before, they are small town folk.

"Have you?" I cautiously ask, knowing that anything involving the FBI means it worse very serious

"Yes, I worked on a high profile case with them when I was first made detective in California."

"Oh, what case?" I ask nonchalantly hopefully not making him feel pressured to tell me, though I really want to know.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"That's cool, sorry."

We walk silently through the maze of cubicles that litter the main area of the station, he leads me to the elevator and hits the up button and we wait patiently for the doors to open, I take a sip of my coffee and as the elevator opens we make our way in and up towards the fifth floor. As the door opens out into a small room with five desks laid out, 3 others were busy at work, looking up carefully to eye me then return to their work. Jake leads me to a desk beside the window, its empty asides from the computer that sits upon it lonesome.

"You can use this desk, the guy who's it was retired last week. So it's all yours. I doubt that anybody will be claiming it any time soon." He gestures to the baron desk

"Thanks Jake."

"It's all good Agent Lopez" he replies as a uniformed officer approaches us and clears his throat.

"Detective Puckerman, Sheriff Schuester wants to see you"

"Thanks Scott" he says dismissing him then turns to me. "I'll come talk to you after I see what curly fries wants."

"Okay thanks again Jake."

He smiles at me again the turns and makes his way towards a door at the other end of the room. I place my coffee upon the desk and remove my satchel from around my neck placing it under the desk

Taking a moment to examine my surroundings more thoroughly, I reach for the phone and go to dial Shelby's direct number. I hope she's not wanting any drastic updates on the case, because I literally have none other than the fact it's a definitely a shapeshifter. But I place the receiver back down. I really don't want to talk to Shelby at this moment.

I have so many various things pressing on my mind that I don't know where to start. All these important matters. There's a Lamia on the loose, there's a serial killer on the loose. What am I supposed to do? I feel so overwhelmed. But most of all, there is one thing that is overshadowing what I really should be focused on.

What should be capturing my attention?

The Marquise.

She revealed so little but enough that my savvy research skills should be able to find out more about her. I need to figure her out on some level. Something tells me that we are somehow connected in a way that goes beyond my comprehension. Well, it feels like it.

I sigh and swing around in my chair leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. Thinking about what I can do to easily resolve something from taking over my mind. There has to be something.

And then I remember something The Marquise said

"_My name is Komtessa Brittany Susan Saskia Pierce of Nassau; my father was Willem de Zwijge."_

"_So you are Dutch?" _

And she nodded her head to that. If she is Dutch, and of royalty surely somewhere I can find out more information about her. I sit myself up and scoot closer to the computer and turn it on. If there's anything I can do, anything I can look up. And then it struck me again

If I can't find anything about Brittany of Nassau there's always Willem De Zwijge. I can find everything about him. I can Wikipedia him.

I wait as the computer loads and frown as soon as I hit the LCPD log in. Damnit. I have to wait for Jake to return to help me get through these barriers. I groan in frustration and huff out loud. One of the other detectives eyes me warily and I smile at him.

I guess while I wait for Jake I could call Shelby. I dial her direct number and listen as the rings

"Deputy Director Corcoran." Her voice rasps

"Hey Shelby it's Santana."

"Lopez! How are you doing?" she asks a little too enthusiastically.

"I'm okay; I'm working well with Jake Puckerman. But other than that my reception has been less than friendly." I reply honestly. There's no use in hiding these small bits of information. Especially of Schuester starts calling and complaining about me. Which I could definitely see happening at some point.

"What do you mean less than friendly?"

"I had a gun pulled on me." I casually say.

"By who?"

"A deputy douchebag."

"Was he punished?"

"It doesn't really matter what happened Shelby, I am as unwelcome as they come here." I state honestly

"I'm sorry Santana."

"Deputy Douchebag told me you called earlier?"

"Yes, I was calling to ask you if you would like any help, we could spare an agent or two if you'd like? Perhaps Anderson?" She suggests and I think about it. Perhaps a male presence from the bureau would be beneficial.

"Anderson would be good actually. Perhaps he'd have more luck with these knuckle heads." Honestly, I think having a male presence on my side from the FBI would probably be a good idea.

"Sexist?"

"Along with other things."

Shelby hums in thought

"I'm going to be sending out Doctor Weston to help build a profile of your killer."

"We haven't really got anything to go on yet Shelby. I saw a body yesterday but the LCPD had fucked it four ways to Sunday."

"Are they really that incompetent?"

"You have no idea." I groan in frustration.

"I want you to keep me in the loop Lopez; I need to know what's going on there."

"It's a shapeshifter, that I can honestly say, but when I get to see the autopsy, it'll be clearer."

"How's the medical examiner there?"

"Kurt Hummel?" I ask surprised. Unsure why she's asking about him.

"Yes?"

"He'll offer me far more information than anybody else here asides Detective Puckerman"

"That's good. I'm glad you've found your niche there Santana." She sounds surprised.

"Me too."

"I'll send Weston and Anderson down together, within the next couple of days, try to grab as much information as you can to help Rutherford. And try not to be too much a bitch towards Anderson. He's still a baby."

"I'll try my hardest."

"Lopez, I have to go, but I trust next time I talk to you, you'll have more information for me."

"Bye Corcoran."

I hang up the phone and hum to myself and look up to see Jake standing there.

"When did you get there?"

"Not long before you hung up."

"Schuester bust your balls?"

"Surprisingly no, not today. But I have to head out to do some work on an unrelated case. I thought I would come and give you the details to get into the server and tell you the information you need to get an id pass from Human resources." He hands me a stack of papers and I smile at him

"Thank you so much."

"I'll be back within a couple of hours; Kurt will probably be in contact with you at some point to see if you want to watch the autopsy."

"Awesome, will you be there for it?"

"It depends on whether or not I'm done with this other case."

"I'd prefer it if you were there but I'd understand if you can't be there."

"I'll try my best."

"Thank you."

"Well, I really have to go; I'll see you in a bit."

"Thanks again Jake."

With that he turns on his heal and leaves. I turn to the stack of papers in front of me and sigh. I hate doing paper work like this. Just so I can gain clearance for this inept police department. I have far higher security clearance, but needs must I guess.

I browse through the papers and when I stumble across the username and password to get onto the computer excitedly I use the information to log onto the computer. Quickly opening the web browser and quickly directing my attention to Wikipedia.

Deciding it's best to see if I can find anything on the marquise I enter her details into Wikipedia first. I bite my lip as I type in the words Komtessa Brittany Susan Saskia Pierce of Nassau.

Holding my breath as the page loads, I release it in a loud sigh as no results come up. Damn. I click my tongue then enter _Willem de Zwijger _not knowing what I'm going to find. It's both exhilarating and terrifying finding out information about people without their knowledge. But the Marquise hasn't made anything easy for me so, needs must.

It turns out Willem de Zwijger means William the Silent, interesting. I click open the Wikipedia page and proceed to read.

_William I, Prince of Orange (24 April 1533 – 10 July 1584), also widely known as William the Silent (Dutch: Willem de Zwijger), or simply William of Orange (Dutch: Willem van Oranje), was the main leader of the Dutch revolt against the Spanish that set off the Eighty Years' War and resulted in the formal independence of the United Provinces in 1648. He was born in the House of Nassau as Count of Nassau-Dillenburg. He became Prince of Orange in 1544 and is thereby the founder of the branch House of Orange-Nassau and the ancestor of the monarchy of the Netherlands._

_A wealthy nobleman, William originally served the Habsburgs as a member of the court of Margaret of Parma, governor of the Spanish Netherlands. Unhappy with the centralisation of political power away from the local estates and with the Spanish persecution of Dutch Protestants, William joined the Dutch uprising and turned against his former masters. The most influential and politically capable of the rebels, he led the Dutch to several successes in the fight against the Spanish. Declared an outlaw by the Spanish king in 1580, he was assassinated by Balthasar Gérard (also written as "Gerardts") in Delft four years later (1584)._

Wait, so not only was the Marquise important now, but she would have been insanely important then. Her father changed the shape of Europe. He fought against the Spanish.

I wonder if he fought against some of my family.

Is this why the Marquise doesn't seem to like me all that much? Because I'm Spanish? It's been a long time since these events surely she can't hold onto a grudge for that long could she?

Unless a Spaniard was the cause of her vampirism.

I would be pretty pissed off if someone changed me and I'd probably hold a grudge for that long if the circumstances upon my turning were unpleasant.

I continue to read more about William and discover that William the Silent was succeeded by his son Phillip William. I click open his link and frown;

_Philip William, Filips Willem in Dutch, was born on 19 December 1554 in Buren, Guelders, and Seventeen Provinces. He was the first son of William the Silent and Anna van Egmont._

_When his father William the Silent ignored Alva's summons to return to Brussels, remaining in Germany, Philip William, only a boy of 13, was studying at the University at Leuven in Brabant. He was seized in February 1568, and taken to Spain partly as a hostage, but especially to be raised as a good Catholic and loyal subject. He would never see his father again, and his mother had died in 1558._

I find no mention of the Marquise within the information about Philip or William. But that doesn't mean too much, women weren't held in great esteem back then. But the information about Philip makes me think. If he was kidnapped and taken back to Spain as a hostage, I wonder if Brittany was as well. Did she get taken back to Spain to be subjected to forced Catholicism and vampirism?

Did the church have her completely removed from the context of history? The Catholic Church has been known to be involved in some shady things over the course of history. I wouldn't put it past them to perpetrate something along those lines.

Unsure what to do next I look through the family tree that is available to view. Again I see no mention of the marquise. I can only really draw to conclusions about this. Either someone has literally erased the Marquise from that part of history or the Marquise is lying to me.

Either option isn't satisfying to my information cravings.

I scroll through Google and check out more information about the 80 years' war and the Dutch royal family. Finding each piece of information interesting but also not as satisfying as I'd hoped.

There's literally nothing here about Brittany of Nassau.

I'm so involved with what I am reading that I don't even hear as somebody approaches me. It's not until I feel a hand on my shoulder and I yelp in complete fright that I am bought out of my own little world. I turn around and face the culprit that just scared the shit out of me.

"Agent Lopez, I'm sorry I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's fine, sorry I-." I didn't know how to explain what I did so I just hand gestured something and hope he understands.

"It's alright." He replies, his eyes twinkling.

"Kur-"I start but am cut off by his hand being thrust in front of me. I eye the immaculately dressed pixie doctor warily

"My name is Doctor Kurt Hummel, and I am the Medical examiner." I take his hand and frown at him. His eyes trying to communicate with me something that I'm not aware of. I go along with this charade though because for whatever reason he is doing this, I'm sure it's important.

"I'm Agent Lopez, are you in charge of performing the autopsy?"

"Yes ma'am. "

"It's a pleasure to meet you and I look forward to walking with you." Politeness is everything.

"You too. I've been in contact with detective Puckerman, he's still about half an hour away but he has given me the go ahead to start the autopsy without him, if you would like to join me we can start?"

"That would be good. Give me a second and I'll shut this all down." I gesture towards the computer and he looks at me, eyebrow raised. He caught me looking up information about the Marquise. I just shrug in response. I can tell he's going to bombard me with questions. I sigh as I finish then get up from my seat.

"Let's do this." I say and gesture for him to lead the way to the medical examiner's office.


End file.
